


Don’t Forget Me

by wayfmuke98



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: 5 Seconds of Summer - Freeform, 5SOS - Freeform, Angst, BoyxBoy, Drug Use, Gay, Gay Smut, Hate to Love, Letter, M/M, Michael clifford/Luke hemmings - Freeform, Sad, Sex, Smut, alome, no happy ending, substance use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:15:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 24,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29545701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayfmuke98/pseuds/wayfmuke98
Summary: Loving Michael would always be a losing game. But Luke was still willing to try."Don't leave," Luke mumbled pathetically against Michael's lips.But he knew that no amount of loving could make Michael stay.orLiving alone has its disadvantages and unfortunately for Luke, things don't turn out the way he hopes. He notices the sadness that clings onto his neighbour and decides that he'll be the one to make a change.But Luke didn't think that he'd become so infatuated with his neighbour that he'd give himself away to someone who he knows will never love him back.This story is also on wattpad. Find me as wayfmuke98
Relationships: Michael Clifford & Luke Hemmings, Michael Clifford/Luke Hemmings





	1. Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some errors may occur throughout the book.

Luke's not a stranger to pain. He's had his fair share of sad days or months; the emotion seemed to like hovering around for longer than needed. He had just learnt to deal with it overtime.

But Luke never knew sadness could be so beautiful; it was all because of one quiet boy that lived above him who seemed to contain all the anger in the world. 

He couldn't stop himself from asking questions and wanting answers. His curiosity led him to leave letters for the talented boy. Slowly, slowly, entering his life to try and brighten it a bit. He just wanted to make Michael happy.

Like he had said, Luke wasn't a stranger to pain. So seeing the beautiful boy keep his locked up and hidden away; only spilling out in the contents of sad songs and harsh glares made him wonder what had hurt him so bad.

The blond decided that he'd endure all the rudeness he'd receive from the pale skinned boy, he just wanted to make him happy. Luke had never seen him smile. He was sure the boy would look gorgeous.

But Michael had other plans. 

He wasn't normal. He spent his days in his apartment, lost in his thoughts or high off his drugs. Only facing reality when he was forced to. He ruined lives because his own was ruined, it wasn't fair.

Michael couldn't deal with it, so he kept himself hidden away. Not wanting to surround himself in the fake ness of it all. Being happy was only temporary, it wasn't important to him anymore. It was more punishing. 

Because there was always something lurking in the corner, ready to snatch away your smile. Michael decided he wouldn't let that happen, and it wouldn't, if he carried on how he was. 

And anyway, each day was just a time kill. It was the minutes leading up to those crucial seconds Michael knew were coming until the whole thing came to an end and blew up.

Michael only wanted to let Luke know about the bad things in the world- he wasn't supposed to catch feelings. The boy had found himself getting lost in a short lived paradise that he couldn't believe existed. 

And when it became too much, Michael just lost it. 

Happiness was only temporary, Michael knew that, and now Luke was going to learn the hard way. 

Curiosity always did kill the cat.


	2. A Soft Voice

The blond boy made his way onto his balcony, fingers wrapped around a semi warm mug of tea. It was slightly cold out and he sat down, thankful that he had on a sweater. The mug in his hands also seemed to be keeping him warm.

Luke wasn't a fan of tea or coffee but it kept him warm and filled up his belly making it easier for him to fall asleep- so he guessed he couldn't say that he did hate the warm beverage.

He leaned back in the chair, admiring the same view he did every night. The sky was glittering with stars and the wind was present; it knotted his hair and made him shiver.

Luke sighed and closed his blue eyes, waiting for the familiar music to fill his ears but it never seemed to start. He frowned his brows, nibbling softly on his lips, the music always came.

Patiently, the blue eyed boy waited. He was so used to hearing the dark, depressing songs- making up scenarios and picturing the face behind them. It gave him something to do in his lonely apartment.

But they never came and Luke was slowly becoming frustrated, he gripped tightly onto his mug and opened his eyes looking up. 

He hadn't realised that this part of his day had become routine; something Luke needed to be able to carry on the rest of his evening and now he shook his head sadly. 

It was getting too cold to stay out during the November nights so reluctantly, Luke had to get up. More than half of his tea remained in his cream coloured mug but he didn't want to drink it anymore.

Luke walked slowly inside, towards the sink and spilled the contents of the mug into it. He ran a hand through his long blond locks and glanced at his clock. 

There was still some time before he'd go to bed so he sat on his couch- balcony door slightly open, just in case the music did start and he waited.

Luke had spent his days, lonely, for a while now. His parents and him never really did get along, Luke's brothers were okay but they never seemed to want to stay in contact. The first few months Luke would call them up and talk but he wasn't stupid, they weren't bothered to keep up small talk or ask about how their little brother was doing so Luke gave up with them too.

He guessed he did have some friends like Ashton and Calum who lived two floors down.

One time Luke was at a coffee shop and the two were there too. They hadn't spotted Luke and accidentally spilt all their drinks on him. 

The beverages didn't scald him since they were only lukewarm but the pair had said sorry around a thousand times and insisted he went back to theirs to clean up and so they could wash his shirt. Luke didn't really care, it was an old t-shirt from when he was younger but they were adamant.

Calum and Ashton were really nice people and always smiled at Luke when they saw him, some days they'd say hi and others they'd stop for conversation. Luke had been invited out with them a few times and the pair had always told him that they were there for him if he ever needed anything.

Luke's neighbours were nice.

But now, the blond was curious to know the person who lived above him, what was he like?

The blue eyed boy was so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't heard the soft strums of a guitar.

He rushed outside, eyes widening from what he heard, someone was singing.

Luke sat down, ears straining to make out the voice and the soft words- he swore his stomach tingled from how soft and sweet the voice sounded. There was so much emotion laced into the way he sang; Luke was sure it was the person that seemed to listen to the sad songs he ears dropped to every evening.

He closed his eyes in bliss, whoever he was, he was a great singer and Luke wouldn't mind listening to this instead of the music every evening. 

The blond leaned back, drinking in the soft sounds coming from the singer and he smiled to himself.

This time he wasn't imagining a dark figure who never seemed to smile. This time, Luke pictured a sweet boy who sat in his room and played his guitar. Slow songs and sad eyes as he played the chords to his favourite song. Someone who had given up on the word around him and Luke couldn't help but want to fix that.

When the song came to an end, he frowned sadly. He wanted more, but it was getting late and the stranger seemed to have stopped singing. It was evidently darker out now from when it was before and Luke took one last glance of the view, admiring it before he slipped inside. 

He locked the doors and decided to not do the curtains, he wanted to be able to see the view. 

The blond walked over and grabbed a pen and a paper and began writing a letter; for the boy who sang the sad song. 

He wanted to tell him that he was a great singer and that his voice was beautiful. As Luke wrote, he intended to make the boy who lived above him smile.

He told the stranger that he thought he had great taste in music no matter how dark or sad the songs were and that he wouldn't mind listening to him sing again. Luke even wrote down an old song that he used to love during his teenage years and lastly, he signed it with his name.

He contemplated whether or not to wait until the morning but he was eager and he found himself rushing up the stairs. He knew exactly which door was his, after all, they did live on top of one another. 

He took a huge breath, staring at the door and imagining who was behind it. Luke didn't waste anymore time as he slipped the letter through the letter box and rushed back down, hoping to maybe hear the boy sing for him tomorrow.


	3. Nice Words and Broken Boys Don’t Mix

It was quiet in the apartment, Michael walked towards his kitchen counter and sat down on the stool. Just thinking for a bit- in the dark.

It was cold tonight so Michael didn't stay outside for too long, he didn't like the cold. But he liked the dark. He sighed at the fact that there never seemed to be something good without something bad to outweigh it. Why couldn't things ever just be plain old good for once?

He glanced at the pile of random objects he had placed in the corner of his living room. Michael had been cleaning up and clearing out some old junk, the pile was left there to be sorted out later but Michael had come across his old acoustic.

It was a beautiful instrument, the sound slightly off from the strings being neglected for too long but it didn't sound all bad.

And somehow, Michael had found himself sitting outside on the balcony playing an old song to himself. He missed his guitar but he didn't want to think about it too much right now. 

Michael pushed himself away from the counter and stood up, eyed noticing a white envelope sitting right in front of his door.

Who had left that there?

He picked it up, not caring for what was inside as he chucked it onto the kitchen top. The pale skinned boy rummaged through his cupboards and pulled out a box of cigarettes. He lit one up and sat back down in the comfort of his couch. The balcony door was open so the smoke would eventually leave and Michael would be able to breathe again. In the dim moonlight, he observed the smoke as it rose to the ceiling and then he breathed out heavily; watching it spill out of his mouth in waves.

It was beautiful and relaxing, smoking always helped him calm down. But it fucked up his lungs.

Michael couldn't give a fuck about his health, not when the feelings were so addicting. He closed his eyes and let the drug work it's way into his bloodstream.

Thoughts and possible scenarios flooded his mind on why he had received that letter. They could've just put it in his letterbox downstairs with the others but no, they had personally sent it. Michael sucked his teeth and decided to get up. His eyes widening when the thought of it being from his mother crossed his mind. 

He rushed towards the kitchen, the burning stick sat between his lips as he ripped open the envelope. His heart was beating wildly and Michael reached up to hold the stick and breathe out the smoke before he started to read what was written.

His green eyed scanned the cursive writing, frowning at what the person had to say: it wasn't his mother. 

These were all nice words; nice writing that had clearly been jotted down quickly like the person didn't want to forget what they had to say. His brows furrowed as he carried on, the words were small and slightly cramped but the letter was pleasing to look at.

Such a pretty thing shouldn't be in Michael's hands. The kind words shouldn't be intended for the depressed boy to read. But he couldn't seem to stop himself as he read right to the end. 

Luke.

The owner of the letter. The boy who had taken his time to write down what was on his mind. Michael put the paper down and sighed, running a hand through his messy, jet black hair. 

The boy stated that Michael had a lovely voice and that the guitar sounded beautiful. He seemed to have found many words to describe only a few minutes of Michael and his guitar playing and the green eyed boy wouldn't lie and say that he wasn't slightly shocked. 

That meant his neighbour could hear the music he played every evening and he never once complained. 

Michael didn't know how to feel.

The boy- Luke -had rambled on in his letter about a song that he thought would sound great with Michael's voice but the black haired boy didn't really care. He left the letter abandoned on the counter of his kitchen as he walked to shut the door of his balcony. He threw his finished cigarette in the bin and walked towards his room.

Michael fell onto his bed and looked around the dark room blankly. He closed his eyes and sighed out heavily. The peace was nice; calming to the ruckus that usually occurred in his mind and he controlled his breathing. Listening to the sounds of his breath and the way his chest rose up and down. 

The boy, Luke, was on his mind. Michael had many questions. Luke seemed sweet and extremely kind, his words held an aura of intelligence Michael would never associate himself with. 

He didn't want Luke to think the letters could become a regular thing; Michael didn't want that.

More letters meant communicating more often, Michael would have to make an effort and that could possibly lead Luke to believing or wanting to be friends. Michael didn't want any of that.

He was a lone wolf. Lived by himself and lived sufficiently. 

Michael fluttered his green eyes shut and hummed quietly. The taste of the nicotine on his tongue still remained and he craved for another one of his cancer sticks, to feel the familiar weight between his lips but he was too lazy to go get one and maybe too tired.

Soon after, Michael fell asleep.


	4. November Rain

Luke woke up nice and early, only to see the grim sky and heavy November rain. The blond sighed at the sight and could only hope that it'd stop soon and not ruin any chances of his still anonymous neighbours singing.

Luke had even contemplated sending another letter but he didn't want to come across as creepy or even just outright lonely. Loneliness was a weakness. No one was there to defend you, or make you smile or let you know how the world viewed you. When you had to deal with the cruel words that had been spat at you; no one was there to convince you that they weren't true. Luke had always thought that the biggest enemies were always the ones we kept hidden away within us. 

No one had the power against you then your own self, you were your own restriction. Everything was up to you and Luke guessed he had lost the battle to himself a few years ago because now he just lived in this lonely, dark apartment fantasising about an imaginary friendship with a boy he knew nothing about- except for his voice.

Luke just wants to find the kind of happiness he saw in the films, he just wanted someone special in his life. Ever since he was a child he had wanted a boyfriend. That's sorta how he found out he was gay, but it's hard to find one in this old, homophobic town. 

His teenage years weren't the best and now that he was an adult living in the 'real' world; it was even harder. Everyone was just so wrapped up in their own life and problems. Which is kinda why Luke is it was slightly jealous or the couple who lived a few doors down.

They were the first gay couple Luke had ever seen and they were lovely and so nice, you could see the love they had for each other in their eyes and no one seemed to give them any crap about their relationship. Hell, Luke was just a pale skinny boy with blond hair, blue eyes and had lanky legs who couldn't walk straight no matter what shoes he wore and the world still managed to label him a 'fag' because he apparently looked gay.

How does one look gay? 

Luke shook his head and sighed, he needed to stop being so negative all the time. But it was hard when everything around you seemed to encourage it.

He sat down, body facing the window as his watery blue eyes seemed to lazily view the raindrops. The rain was heavy and loud, he couldn't see much through the glass but he could hear the harsh patters as the water met the ground. Somewhere, a pipe had cracked because water was dripping loudly on the corner of his balcony. 

Luke used to dislike the sound, he tried hard to fix the problem but nothing could be done and over time the boy guessed he had gotten used to it. But in his silent apartment, the sound just racked through empty brain and seemed to have increased in volume and Luke was scared. He knew that this was really pathetic to be scared about but he couldn't stop himself from thinking about the monsters hidden away in the shadows or under his bed like when he was a child. 

Luke felt so vulnerable.

He walked over to the small TV in the corner and switched it on, he had no care for what was showing he just put the volume up and left it running trying to distract himself. The corner of his living room was brighter but the static sound coming from the screen made the boy sigh and he switched it off; throwing the remote onto the couch. 

Luke had to get out of here, he couldn't breathe and his fear was slowly creeping up on him. He pulled out a sweater and tugged it over his skinny frame before he left his apartment and locked the door.

The corridor was lit up with the usual white lights but it just looked like the inside of a hospital or asylum right now and Luke hated it. 

God, he hated winter so much.

The blond took small, shy steps towards his neighbours and knocked lightly on the doors; relieved to see the familiar dark eyes of Calum. Luke shot him a small smile.

"Hey Luke, what's up?"

Calum seemed so bright and cheery. His smile wide and Luke wondered whether he knew about the state of the weather outside.

From behind, the sound of Ashton laughing seemed to echo through and Luke seriously had to stop himself from lashing out at the pair. It was raining, it was cold, it was scary and dark- how could they be so happy?

The blond furrowed his brows and before speaking, he spotted the way Calum's eyes lit up at the sound of his boyfriend. 

Luke wanted to be this kind of happy so bad.

"Umm, it was kinda scary in my apartment." He mumbled, cheeks red but Calum didn't seem to judge and he invited the boy in with open arms.

"That's okay, Ash and I were just playing a game. You can join us, it'll be fun!"

Luke nodded gratefully and slipped inside the bright apartment. The lights were on in the hallways and Luke didn't need to look around the apartment, he already knew it's state. 

There were photo frames everywhere and achievements and in the living room they had grey couches with 'teal' and 'mustard' coloured pillows like Calum had said. He was very precise with his words and how he wanted things to be in his home and Luke wouldn't lie, he did a great job. 

Luke remembered when Calum was explaining his side of the story one day when him and Ashton were having a fight about whether or not to buy some fairy lights. Ashton really wanted to but Calum said no and the pair asked Luke for his input.

Calum was explaining his choice of design and how it wouldn't fit in and Luke remembered the way Ashton was watching his boyfriend with an amused smile and loving eyes as he droned on about colour palettes.

Ashton had given up about the fairy lights but Calum wanted him to be happy so he bought them and now they had them lining their bedroom walls.

Luke shook his head at the pair. They were so childish but balanced each other out perfectly and no matter how jealous Luke was of them, he couldn't find it in himself to hate them.


	5. Runaway To Hell

The rain had stopped sometime after lunch so Michael was able to go out and get a few things but as soon as he left the store, it began pouring again and he let out a sigh of frustration as he was forced to walk through the cold pellets. He should've taken his car.

The boy ran a hand through his drenched locks and hid his small shopping bad between the thin layers of his jacket. His skin looked exceptionally pale; making the black designs stand out quite sorely and he rolled his eyes and tugged down his once rolled up sleeves. 

His boots treaded through the big puddles and layers of mud before he even reached the concrete pavement; a sigh of relief escaping his lips when he spotted his block of apartments. Michael jogged the rest of the way home, keeping his head down so the rain wouldn't clump his lashes together and make it harder to see.

He pushed his way through the glass doors and sighed out at the warmth and the light, he was finally out of the rain. Michael removed the bag and then shook his hair out. He walked over to where the letterboxes were and he pulled out his keys from his pocket and unlocked his, it was empty like usual and he nodded to himself and locked it before walking away.

Michael decided to take the two flights of stairs up to his floor instead of using the lift and as soon as he arrived he heard the sound of laughter. 

Not many people on this floor seemed to make noise or laugh this loudly, Michael had never even met the old couple a few doors down or the woman that lived beside him. 

His brows furrowed together, green eyes squinted as he looked for the cause of laughter and then he spotted three boys; all holding onto one another and laughing. They were sitting on the steps that led to the third floor and couldn't stop laughing. Michael just rolled his eyes and walked towards his door, the laughter seemed to die down and he felt their eyes on him. They were whispering loudly, Michael thought they were probably drunk. 

He didn't seem to care because he just slipped inside and threw the bag to the floor and his jacket aside. Michael's hair was still damp and his body cold, so he decided to jump into the shower; where it'd be nice and warm.

***

After getting dressed, Michael couldn't help but wonder if the three boys were still there. He recognised two of them. When he moved here the messy, golden haired one had come knocking first, introducing himself and trying to talk to Michael.

The dark haired boy knew he meant well but he was annoying; every time Michael had seen him he would smile brightly and try to talk to him. But Michael just told him he was busy, he didn't need to make friends.

One day, Michael was going out to get some lunch and he bumped into the man and his boyfriend. Yes, Michael was surprised that they were so openly gay but he was happy because gay people went through too much shit already. Wasn't love just love?

Anyway, the smiling golden haired boy seemed to have spotted him and introduced Michael to the brown eyed boy beside him. Michael had tried to keep up small talk but ever since then, he hadn't spoken to the pair.

Michael guessed it had something to do with the Asian looking boy, maybe he could tell Michael wasn't interested to be friends. Because the other boy surely couldn't tell.

But Michael had never seen the blond boy sitting beside them. He had the loudest laugh, gripping onto the railings; head thrown back whilst leaning onto the other two as to not fall.

Michael wondered who he was. 

The bottles they all seemed to be sharing was surely the cause of their laughter but Michael would admit that the blonds laugh was contagious. It was so high pitched and rang loudly, almost like a girls. But not as annoying.

Forgetting the blond, Michael glanced over at the instrument placed in the corner of the room. The stranger boy's letter was still lying on his table and he picked it up, scanning the words for a certain song title. Michael wasn't going to play, it was raining so he wasn't going out but he could play inside if he wanted. But he wasn't going to play the song the boy had suggested, it was an old one that he had learnt himself a few years ago. He vaguely remembered the chords but he wasn't going to play it because Luke wanted him to.

Michael knew nothing about the boy- so he wasn't going to listen to what he had recommended.

Instead, the dark haired boy placed the guitar beside him and decided to work on a song of his own. He was supposed to have applied to a music school, study hard and live out his dream. That what Michael wanted to do with his life. 

He was supposed to move here and start a new life for himself- a happier one. 

But then his mother got the news. It ruined both their lives and smashed his dreams.

So Michael had run away to hide here instead; not to live his life, no- but to watch himself slowly fade away. In the dark walls of his lonely apartment; killing time until the inevitable had happened. And then he'd run away again, not knowing where.

Maybe to another city, another town with it's bleak apartments or maybe- just maybe he'd run away to hell. Finish what was left of his empty life and fall into the cruel grip of the darkness. 

Michael wasn't sure, he hadn't decided yet. He was still waiting for his ticking time bomb to finally explode and destroy everything around him. Force him to face the bitter, cold truth of what he called life.


	6. Drunk

Luke, Calum and Ashton all stumbled up the stairs. The two boyfriends giggling together whilst Luke was lost in his mind. He feared for the bottle of wine in his hands so he pushed it into Calum's arms before leaning onto the walls. He took deep breaths and heard Ashton laugh at him before the older boy ruffled his hair; making Luke wince.

"Poor Luke." Ashton murmured, "He likes a bad boy."

The blond pushed the older boy away but nearly tripped over his laces. He frowned, "I don't like him! I never said that. I just want to be friends."

Ashton fell onto Luke, the pair leaning onto one another to stop themselves falling whilst Calum was sat on the floor. Cradling the bottle of liquor in his hands.

"He has a pretty voice." Luke mumbled, "That's all."

Ashton nodded and walked over to Calum, tugging on his arm. "Come on, I want to go home."

Calum groaned and Luke rolled his eyes walking over to him and helping Ashton pull him up.

The three were a right mess, drunk out of their minds after deciding that the board game had gotten boring; therefore leaving it neglected on their table.

They walked Luke up to his door and the blond leaned against the cold frame as he watched the pair stumble towards their home. They turned around and waved to him, huge smiles on their faces before disappearing and Luke finally made his way inside. Forgetting why he was scared in the first place.

He looked around the empty apartment frowning to himself, there was nothing to do. Luke wasn't tired.

Maybe it was the alcohol; it probably was the alcohol- because Luke had found himself leaving the safety of his home yet again and gripped the metal railing tightly as he took one step at a time, counting to himself.

When he finally reached the last step he giggled triumphantly and smiled to himself. The blue eyed boy then took small steps towards the doors, looking around slowly. 

What door had the black haired boy disappear into?

He looked at all the numbers and then remembered because the boy was living directly under him. If Luke took enough steps, he should be standing right outside of it. So just like before, he counted softly to himself and when he looked up he saw the familiar grey door. He was here last night.

He took a deep breath, forcing his shaky legs to stay planted firmly into the ground before he knocked on to door.

Luke stepped back contemplating whether he should quickly run away but he doubted his knobbly knees would get him far. He took a deep breath when the door opened and the boy from earlier stood behind it. Green eyes scanning him over, questioning him without words.

The alcohol really was messing with Luke's brain because he couldn't help but let the giggle slip out of his mouth and he gasped stopping himself. He looked up into the strangers green eye last and thought they were soft and pretty just like his voice was. 

Luke smiled, "Hi."

The stranger boy blinked and took a small step back, opening his door a bit wider as he examined the boy. 

"Who are you?"

But he didn't get a reply back because Luke had hiccuped lightly, his whole body jolted with him and he rested his hands on the wall to steady himself. A pink blush had flooded his cheeks and lightly dusted his nose: he clamped his lips shut trying to keep the noise to a minimum.

Luke looked at Michael, waving at him excitedly and the dark haired boy shook his head with a sigh. 

"You're drunk." He stated. 

The blond boy nodded his head in response and when Michael suggested he go home he shook his head in disagreement.

"What are you doing here? Who are you?" He tried again.

The blond opened his mouth for a few seconds before smiling. "You play guitar right?"

His words were high pitched slightly slurred, the letters mashing up together, he was a mess. Michael could only nod in his presence and his blue eyed seemed to light up.

"Play for me." He requested making Michael frown. "What?"

"I sent a letter, did you get it? I asked if you could play me a song." Luke spoke, standing up straight. He somehow had managed to stand upright on his own two feet and he shivered. "It's cold."

So this was Luke.

Michael took his time studying him, under the fluorescent white light of the hall, his skin looked pale and his blond hair was light. Luke's blue eyes glittered, he was clearly out of it and Michael noticed that he was biting down on his pink lips softly, a shy smile playing on his thin lips.

The older boy nodded blankly and the shorter boy rocked on his heels looking at Michael expectantly. "Can I come in?"

The dark haired boy huffed, he wanted Luke to leave him alone. He didn't want company tonight or tomorrow he just wanted Luke gone.

But he moved out of the way, letting the blond boy walk into his apartment and into his life.

Michael was quiet as he watched the blond boy ramble on and on about nonsense. His blue eyes landed on the lone guitar hidden in the shadows and he insisted Michael play for him as he sat back and made himself cosy on the strangers couch.

Michael watched him silently. Guitar propped on his knee as he took in his drunk neighbour. The boy didn't know his name- he probably didn't even know where he was.

Maybe that was a good thing because after singing a song, Michael could send him on his way back home with nothing but a hangover as a memory of the night before.


	7. Being Sad Hurts

Michael had been sat on the cold floor of his apartment for the last few hours. His legs felt like jelly and his back was sore. There was a can of beer in his hand and a dozen more lay beside him. Empty.

Michael was drunk.

The boy had left ages ago and now Michael was all alone. He drank away, not worried about how bad his hangover would be tomorrow. When Luke was here, Michael's mind felt at ease.

Not because of Luke, but because he was finally interacting with someone. His interaction with people had been non existent for many years of his life and Michael had thought he was okay. 

But now he had rebounded, his brain was driving him crazy. He couldn't keep feeling lonely, he was going to drive himself insane. Michael needed to ease the hurt but there was no way how.

So he instead he drank and got high; speeding up the process of him losing himself so it wouldn't hurt as much. It was a deadly deal. Michael didn't want to ruin himself but he knew he wasn't destined a good life. He was certain of it. His life was just fucked up.

So maybe if he helped himself by staying immune to the world and the people living on it, then it wouldn't be as hard.

His green eyes were drooping and his vision wasn't promising. It was already dark in the room and the chemicals in his bloodstream were making it harder for his sore eyes to function right.

He placed the can down and sighed loudly, the room smelt like weed and he rolled his eyes at his own bad habits.

Michael was sad. He had always been sad. 

The boy leaned his head back staring up at the ceiling with a small smile, it felt good to be out of it. Michael couldn't really remember anything, he could only see the darkness and the where the light leaked into his apartment from his balcony. 

Out there, the town seemed so alive. The lights were shining brightly whilst everyone slept; it was still alive and awake. Michael hadn't felt like that in ages and the pale boy chuckled to himself sadly, the stupid fucking town was living more than him.

The stars in the sky seemed to never stop moving, he felt like they were shining intensely down on him like he was on a stage. A thousand eyes watching him but Michael didn't want that. He didn't want them here; there was nothing to see. His life was dreary and had already come to an end. If they cared for him, which he was sure they didn't, they wouldn't want to be here. Because Michael already knew how it would end. Why would anyone want to see someone ruin their life so bitterly?

He wanted to close the curtains and leave the spotlight, maybe watch himself. See how other people saw him and how fucked his life really was.

But Michael was too much of a coward to do that.

He clenched his eyes shut, his fingers rubbing his thighs. The touch felt so foreign, it couldn't be him. He had to blink hard to see the small, pale fingers and then his light eyes trailed up his arm to look at all the tattoos. They were dark.

Upon first glance they just looked like cool designs. But Michael knew what they meant. He was more than that- his tattoos weren't accessories. They were stories of his life, the good, the bad. There were mostly bad so that's why he cherished the good ones so much. 

Because even he needed a reminder at times.

Not because he wanted to fix himself but because he needed it to keep on staying alive. Yes Michael was sad, but he wasn't weak. He wasn't going to give himself to the devil that easily. 

He'd been alive for a long time, been through too much shit than he had wanted. He'd be absolutely crazy to give up because one day he decided he couldn't take it anymore. That would be really pathetic.

He groaned loudly and allowed his eyes to flutter shut again. The silence was nice. It spoke to him- more than people did. 

It was how he felt inside; empty. It was how he went though life; quietly. It was what had happened to the voices in his mind, they had stopped speaking to him because they had given up. Michael had given up. The silence was the only thing that remained. It made him feel sane. It helped him control himself; Michael had a lot to fucking thank the silence for. 

When his brain was poisoned and made him see colours on his fingertips and flashing lights around him; the silence brought him back down from the high. 

It was doing that right now. His fingers had seemed to stop moving and the can beside him wasn't spinning anymore. His vision wasn't as hazy- he was just tired. It was becoming easier to let himself go and leave this fantasy world that he often returned to. 

Michael didn't know why, it only helped him escape for a few hours and then he'd come tumbling back down. His weak mind and sore head had to face this sad reality yet again and it was even harder to get used to it. It got harder every time.


	8. Not The Best

Luke was making his way back from work. The blond was humming quietly as he walked home. Today was his shortest shifts out of all the days he worked, so of course he was in a much lighter mood.

Sometimes it was hard because where he worked gave him just enough money to pay for his apartment and other necessities. He didn't really have enough money to spend on himself unless he saved up. Luckily, Luke had been saving a few pounds here and there for a couple years so in the future, someday, he could move out of here.

Luke couldn't reach out to his parents for help. It was hard from having them look after you and tend to your every need to not even calling him up to say hello. But he was doing them a favour- he never really saw himself as their son. Just an add on item they didn't want.

The blue eyed boy sighed and ran a hand through his hair, he wasn't going to spend the rest of his time dwelling on them. As he walked through the door of the tall building, he decided to check his letterbox for any letters. 

And that's when he stopped in his step; a few steps down was a black haired boy. Guitar boy.

Luke may have been drunk but he woke up and remembered most parts. He really hoped he didn't do anything stupid.

The tall blond quickly checked only to see a thin white envelope, he looked at it and rolled his eyes. They never seemed to listen to him when he called up saying that the old man had left years ago. This was Luke's apartment now, they were sending him someone else's letters. 

Luke however, pretended like he was reading the letter in his hand because he was thinking. Should he talk to the boy or not?

Whatever, he probably already knows you're here. 

Luke took a deep and turned around, noticing the boys eyes on him and he blushed furiously; pale cheeks becoming a deep crimson colour. 

"Hi." He squeaked out already groaning at himself internally. 

Luke peered over to the boys letterbox only to see that his name wasn't written on top. Instead he just had M. Clifford. 

He looked back at the green eyed boy to see him smirk. "Luke." The stranger began, startling him. 

"Do you often get drunk and barge into your neighbours homes?"

Luke body was flaming hot, his cheeks bright red in pure embarrassment and he looked down at his battered converses. "No."

The dark haired boy hummed, "So that night was an exception?"

Luke sighed and clenched his jaw. "Can you forget it? I just wanted to make friends and see who was living underneath me."

Michael's green eyes were analysing Luke, his face blank. Luke suddenly felt really nervous under his watch.

"You know ears dropping is rude. I could complain." He said calmly.

"What?"

"Your letter said that you listen to me play. Well don't." Michael stated. "Stalking is a crime."

Luke was positive his cheeks couldn't go any darker. "I wasn't stalking you." 

"Just don't come near me." Michael said coldly.

Luke lost himself in his train of thought: this boy was rude. Normally, Luke would've apologised but his green eyed neighbour was speaking to him rudely and Luke didn't like that.

"Do you even understand what I'm saying or are you drunk now too?" He scoffed.

Luke turned away to lock up his letterbox, "You don't have to be rude about it."

Michael laughed dryly, "I'm not being rude Luke, I'm just saying what I feel."

The blond didn't like the way the older boy snarled his name- no matter how hot his voice was -he didn't like the disrespect. 

Luke had moved away from his parents to escape that and this boy was doing it all over again. 

"Smoking inside the building is prohibited." He said calmly, "So is blasting music at the levels you do, especially at night." 

Luke turned around to see the furrowed brows and squinted eyes of his neighbour.

"And by the smell coming from your room, I'm sure it's not normal cigarettes you're smoking. I'm not the only one committing a crime that I could complain about."

The two boys stared at each other, Luke's blue eyes mild whilst Michael's were trying to hide the anger he held. The older boy finally put an end to their staring, rolling his eyes and walking away. 

Once the boy was a considerable amount of distance away from Luke, the blond let out a sigh and leaned his head against the cold metal of the locker. He slammed his hand on the door, not hard so no noise made its way through the room but so Luke could feel the vibration.

Luke didn't hadn't wanted the first time meeting with his neighbour to be like that but he wasn't going to stand being disrespected.

He crooked his neck to see the boy just about disappear up the stairs, Luke's blue eyes couldn't help but trail over his skinny jean clad legs or the band T-shirt he had on. The black snapback had hidden his black locks and Luke wouldn't deny that he was good looking. He looked like he came straight out of a broken rock band or a film about a sad, punk boy. 

Luke could imagine him in so many scenarios. He was interesting; Luke wanted to know more. Luke needed to know more. But he had no clue how he was going to, they clearly weren't on speaking terms. Luke doubted the boy would ever speak to him again.

He got sad. The blond really did like the boys singing and wanted to hear more. He wanted to talk to him and become friends because he didn't have much.

It was hard for Luke to reach out to people. But he was really, really determined to possibly start something great between the pair.


	9. Fall For You, Fool For Love

Michael like always was sat in the darkness of his apartment. His curtains were pulled back hiding himself from whatever sunshine the November sky seemed to give him. Not that he minded, he hated the sun.

He was sprawled out on his couch, eyes closed and humming to himself simply as he relaxed. Michael had been here since the morning. His encounter with Luke turned out way different than he had imagined it to go and he sorta hated the boy for pointing out all the wrong things Michael did.

But that wasn't going to stop the green eyed boy from playing his music loudly or smoking. And anyway, he did drugs occasionally, he wasn't a junkie.

Maybe he'd put on some music now.

He pushed his tired body up and looked through his pile of CD's. They were all stacked up in two piles beside his player; his most played ones at the top. Michael had been collecting them since he was a teen, his first one had been a present from his mum on his fifteenth birthday. 

He still had that CD, but he didn't play it as often. He didn't like the memories. Michael was conflicted between two albums, both by one of his favourite bands 'My Chemical Romance' and just as he was about to put the disk in, he heard a knock at his door.

Who the fuck was that?

He put the CD's down on his table and walked towards his door, wondering who the hell was asking for him. He had never had any visitors or guests in the time he had spent living here. So it shouldn't have come as a shock to see the blond haired, blue eyed boy from earlier. Luke, was standing awkwardly at Michael's door. His feet turned inwards nudging each other whilst his hands were clasped together. 

His pale skin was glowing, cheeks a dusty pink and his hair appeared slightly damp. Luke was dressed in a pair of black jeans and a grey sweater with a black snapback placed on his hair. 

He looked at Michael nervously and the older was so tempted to roll his eyes and shut the door on his face. But Luke began speaking and he was slightly was curious to hear what the blond had to say.

"Hi, umm..." He trailed off only then realising he still didn't know Michael's name. "I-I know we came off to a bad start and I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to intrude that night I'm not the best drunk."

Michael leaned against his door, watching the blond fumble awkwardly on his words and bite his lip. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry and hope you can forgive me. I'd really like it if things were okay between us."

Michael stayed quiet and he thought about Luke's words, not aware of the heart attack he was giving the younger with just the way he looked at him. 

"Okay." He said simply, "Things are fine."

Luke's lips stretched out into a huge smile, Michael could practically see the little lightbulbs in his eyes shine and he scoffed to himself. 

He went to close his door but Luke's voice halted him- again.

"Wait! I thought we could.."

Michael didn't give Luke any time to think as he spoke up- interrupting his thoughts.

"What did you think? That we could hang out or something?"

The look on Luke's face gave it all away and the older boy rolled his light green eyes in annoyance. 

"I don't do that."

"But I thought things were okay. I'm sorry, I really am."

"Stop apologising, they are okay."

"So then why-"

"Luke I don't do friends. I don't do hangouts and coffee shop meets, if things are okay between us then you need to stop talking to me and looking at me. Just keep your distance and we'll be good." Michael snapped.

Luke was caught off guard and he looked at Michael, his heart shaky and throat clogged up. Michael leaned up to rub his temples, groaning at the boy in front of him. He had stumbled a few steps back, in shock, and Michael sort of wanted him to have taken at least one hundred steps away instead. 

"I don't do friends." Michael repeated in an icy tone, his emerald eyes were planted on Luke the whole time; Luke could see the way his pupils were dilated. 

The blond nodded quickly and Michael took a few steps back, closing the door and placing the boundary between himself and human connection back up.

But Luke remembered something, something he was desperate to find out, so he found himself knocking the moody boy's door again, his heart was leaping out of his chest for sure. 

Luke took deep breaths to calm himself down and make the tears that had welled up; disappear. 

The door reopened to reveal Michael. His jaw was clenched; he was clearly losing his patience and Luke regretted ever coming here.

"I still d-don't know your name." He mumbled weakly.

"What?"

"I still don't-"

"For fuck sake, I heard what you said."

"So then why-"

The older boy cut him off. "Michael." He snapped, "It's Michael."

He breathed out loudly, "Happy?"

Luke nodded his head timidly, watching how Michael closed his eyes and mumbled to himself before looking at Luke again. 

"Good. Now leave and please, for the love of God, don't keep coming back."

The blue eyed boy took small steps back, telling himself to take deep breaths as he walked. He wasn't sad because of Michael, his eyes were just watering because he was startled. Michael was rude and didn't seem to care about the way he spoke to people.

Luke wasn't scared; he was just sensitive. He'd always had a hard time ignoring people's words and not take them to heart. He was weak and he knew it, so Luke always took extra time protecting himself from anything that could rip his heart into pieces.

But he couldn't seem to hold himself back from Michael.

The older boy wasn't going to just ruin him, he was going to keep the pieces as a reminder of Luke's failure. And Luke would only be able to watch from afar as his heart was toyed with, but he would do anything for the green eyed boy's happiness.

Luke was a fool if he thought love was going to make Michael better.


	10. Friends Betray Friends

Luke just couldn't stay away. Michael intrigued him and no matter how rude he was, Luke just felt the strange urge to keep on seeing him.

That was how the blond ended up sat awkwardly on Michael Clifford's couch. The older boy was sat further away, jaw clenched and eyes shut. It had been quiet in the room for a long time, Luke felt suffocated in the thick tension but he couldn't bring himself to speak. 

He didn't want to disrupt whatever Michael had going on and he also frankly believed the words would be stuck in his throat and wouldn't leave without making a fool of himself. 

He sighed quietly and allowed his blue eyes to travel the room. Of course, Luke had no clue why he thought coming here would be a good idea; he regretted the decision now. 

Michael's nose was flared and his eyes were closed, Luke wondered what he thought about.

"Michael?" He called quietly making the older raise his head in annoyance. 

Luke gulped hard. "What's so bad about having friends?" His voice was soft and shaky; Michael hated it.

"Friends aren't friends." The boy spat. "People don't care, no one does. Everyone's selfish. Friends backstab you, they say they're here for you but the second something better comes along they'll leave."

Luke was lost for words, what had Michael been through? 

"Is that what happened to you?" He asked softly, he saw the way Michael winced and screwed his eyes shut. Luke felt bad but he couldn't stop his questions. "Did someone hurt you Michael? I'm sorry that they hurt you but not everyone's like that. There are a lot of people in the world that do care."

The dark haired boy sneered at Luke's words. "No one, fucking cares Luke. You're so wrapped up in your head that you don't even know how fucked up the world is. You don't know shit."

Luke frowned at that, his brows stitched together and pink lips in a pout. "You don't have to be rude Michael." He spoke softly, "There are people that do care." Luke repeated. He was adamant about the fact that people can be good. 

"Let me tell you something Luke. People can spit harsh words at you that make you feel insecure as fuck and depressed for maybe the rest of your goddamn life but those people say what they think. They don't say what they know. The only people that can really hurt you are you friends because they know everything about you. They're the only ones that can hurt you and really mean it because they know what keeps you up at night. They know everything and they'll still use it against you. Your friends are your real enemies."

Michael stood up quickly leaving a stunned Luke in the darkness of the room. He let the older boy's words process in his mind and he gulped hard when he realised that there were some truths in what he said. 

Luke clumsily got up, and trekked after Michael watching him light up a cigarette; slouched over on the stool he was sat on. The blond boy stood awkwardly, fingers tangled together as he watched Michael ruin his lungs. 

"What do you want Luke?" Michael sighed tiredly making Luke take small steps into the room.

"Is that what happened t-to you?" He whispered, fearing Michael's reaction. 

He was surprised when he saw he emotionless look on his face, his green eyes dull. They looked more grey then green and they looked so lifeless. Luke wanted to bring back the dead flowers and fields in Michael's eyes back to life. 

"No." He said sternly. Luke frowned in confusion, "What?"

"Not friends." Michael said simply.

Luke was stuck as he thought but then it hit him and the look of understanding really seemed to flood his face. Michael looked away before he could find himself looking into the sympathetic eyes of Luke.

"Your family?" He questioned, just to be sure, but Michael didn't seem to want to talk anymore. 

"Forget it." He blew off, before turning his head away. 

Luke couldn't begin to imagine what kind of pain Michael had experienced for him to become the remnants of a happy boy who now lived inside the suit of a dead man.

"Sorry." He mumbled.

"Why are you here Luke? Like really, what's the point? Just go."

The blue eyed boy shook his head, not wanting to go. "How do you deal with your sadness?"

Michael's brows raised in confusion, his green eyes questioning the younger boy. He laughed at what Luke had just told him, "Deal with my sadness? What is this, a movie?"

Luke's cheeks turned into a light pink colour and Michael scoffed. "I don't deal with it."

Luke looked up curiously, "So what do you do?"

"You wanna know?"

The blond nodded eagerly. 

"I drink it away or sometimes I do drugs." He said bluntly, "It helps me forget for a while."

His blue eyes widened in disbelief but Luke already knew that so he had no idea why he was shocked. He just wanted to understand the boy a bit better; so that he could help him. 

"Does it help?" He found himself asking. His question surprised Michael, he thought the blond would want to stay away now.

"Only for a bit."

"Oh."

Luke pondered over Michael's words for a while, watching him smoke his cigarette. He could feel the smoke invade his nostrils with each breath he took and didn't appreciate the damage it was most likely doing but he didn't say anything; otherwise he'd be a hypocrite. 

Luke never smoked, not once in his life. But today he was going to.

"Can I have one?" He asked quietly making Michael's eyes snap open. 

"What?"

"A cigarette."

Michael's green eyes studied the blond carefully, "Have you ever smoked before?"

He shook his head making Michael sigh. "No."

"What?! Why?"

"I don't wanna be the reason you pick up a bad habit. I've got too much on my conscience anyway."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Well you're already ruining my lungs."

The blond saw the way Michael's jaw clenched and his jawline became more prominent and he sighed, "Do you have anything to drink?"

The older boy glared at Luke but he didn't feel as scared like he did before. He just stared back, not budging until Michael was forced to look away.


	11. Wrong From Right

The smell of nicotine, weed and cheap beer filled the air. It was warm in the apartment but neither boys seemed to mind. It was also quiet, not much could be heard except the music Michael had put on. A sad song was playing but the volume was too low and the boy were high. They couldn't make out the lyrics. 

Michael and Luke were drunk out of their minds and now Michael was trying to teach Luke how to smoke. At the blond's request of course. 

He choked out, coughing fiercely and the older boy laughed as he placed the fag between his own two lips and watched the boy. 

His eyes were clouded, his cheeks and nose pink and the cap he had on previously was placed on the floor. The lights in Michael's apartments were on, so under the piercing white lights, the place looked scary- similar to an asylum. 

"Pass it over." Luke whined, head rolling back onto the couch behind them. 

The two were situated on the floor, cans littered around them. Empty or full, they weren't too sure.

Michael took a puff before giving it to the blond and he tried again. 

Michael's green eyes latched onto the way Luke's pink lips wrapped around the stick and he couldn't look away. The drugs didn't seem to be helping, they made everything look that much better. And now Michael's brain was playing out a sequence, a dirty sequence that Luke shouldn't have been involved in. 

Because even drunk, Michael knew the blond boy was fragile and innocent. 

Luke's eyes fluttered shut as he breathed in and out, "It's disgusting."

"Give it back then."

"No." Luke protested, "I want it."

Luke's blue eyes snapped open and he giggled when seeing the annoyance on Michael's face. His head tilted to the side and his words were slurred. 

"You look angry."

Michael rolled his eyes. 

"You're right I guess. It does help you forget." Luke mumbled. 

Both boys kept eye contact, Luke's eyes studying Michael and smiling to himself slightly. He didn't realise how it was making Michael feel. He sat up and crawled closer to Michael, "You look tired."

Michael gulped hard. 

The pretty blond boy was curled up on his lap, head resting in the crook of his neck and his lips were so close to Michael's skin. Michael couldn't breathe. 

"Get off me Luke."

"I'm tired too."

"Luke, get off."

The blond frowned and looked up, he didn't realise how forward he was being, the drugs simply hazing his thoughts and he smiled softly at Michael. 

The older boy could see all the darker flecks in Luke's eyes and the dimples in his cheeks and if he focused; he was sure he could count each and every one of his blond eyelashes. He was stuck in a daze as Luke spoke.

"I don't know why people are scared of you. You're not scary." He spoke, "You might look scary but you're just sad."

Michael didn't hear a word Luke said, only focusing on the way his pink lips seemed to curve and then clash against each other. He took a deep breath and looked away. Luke's blond hair was out of place, his pale skin had no blemishes and his blue eyes were huge. He looked like a doll. A doll Michael could only ruin. He couldn't stop himself from reaching out and holding Luke's hips tightly.

The blond didn't seem to mind, he only smiled. "Why do you act so mean? It's not nice."

Michael felt bad, god sometimes he fucking hated drugs. "I'm sorry."

But it was worth it, seeing his head lift up and his blue eyes shine.

"It's okay."

Michael and Luke stared at each other, Michael's thoughts so much different to Luke's and he found his hand rubbing up and down Luke's hips and thighs. The blue eyed boy was placed comfortably on top of Michael and he closed his eyes, small whines of gratitude escaping his lips. His head was hidden in Michael's neck like earlier but Michael pulled him back to admire him. 

His hair seemed so wild and his eyes looked like crystals. Luke's pupils seemed to have dilated so much you could hardly see the blue and everything in the room seemed to be a hundred different shades of bright colours.

Michael knew it wasn't just the drugs that made him lean in and capture Luke's lips with his own. He kissed passionately, hands still exploring Luke's body and he sighed out in pleasure. Luke's lips were so soft and sweet, they moved slowly against his it was perfect. 

Their lips moved against each other, Michael's lazy movements perfect with the hesitant ones of Luke and when the blond suddenly seemed to grasp the situation he was in; he kissed the dark haired boy hard. 

Michael kissed Luke with his everything and even more; hands roaming the younger body and the blond whimpered into Michael's mouth. 

Michael's touch was electrifying to him, the drugs making everything more intense and he rushed to tug Michael's dark locks.

Michael's kisses were too much and Luke pulled back gasping heavy. His small hands gripped onto the dark material of Michael's T-shirt and he took his time before looking up into the green eyes.

"Does that help you forget?" He asked, panting softly.

Michael looked curiously at Luke, "What?" His chest heaved up and down for air.

"Does kissing me help you forget?"

Michael looked at Luke blankly not knowing how he felt, the chemicals in his body were confusing him and were making it hard for him to think rationally. "I-I don't know." He admitted. 

Luke nodded softly. "I just wanna help you be happy."

The older boy gulped hard, he wasn't gonna be happy. This wasn't gonna make him happy, nothing was. But Luke was looking at him so intently; he felt his emotions as they tangled with each other confusing him wrong from right. 

"I'm not gonna be happy Luke, I just forget things until I can't put them off anymore."

The blond seemed to take his time digesting Michael's words and he looked up sadly. "I know we're drunk but don't forget me tomorrow. Don't push me away, please. I just wanted to be friends."

Michael's fingers trailed up Luke's arms as he looked away. "Friends don't kiss each other Luke, you should go."

He tried to move the boy off him but Luke didn't seem to want that. He leaned forward wrapping his arms tightly around the older boy.

"Friends make each other happy. I'm gonna make you happy Michael, even if it's temporary. I'm going to make you better."


	12. You’ve Got Me

Luke had stumbled back home in the early hours of the morning, the sun wasn't out and the moon had just hid itself away; leaving the sky clear for the demons to take over. 

When he woke up, he had a splitting headache and memories of the night before seemed to torment him.

Leaning against the counter, Luke waited for the kettle to boil the water. He clutched his head tightly, the sound too harsh for his delicate ears. After what felt like a lifetime, Luke let out a sigh of relief as the noise had finally came to an end. 

The blue eyed boy made his tea, staring into space as he sipped on it. He ignored the intense heat of the liquid as he sipped on it, hoping not to burn himself.

Luke wondered what Michael was doing now?

The blond wasn't an idiot, he knew they had somehow stepped over the lines of being friends yesterday when they kissed. But Luke didn't seem to regret it, which scared him.

He had never had drugs, never smoked or drank away his feelings. He had never made out with a depressed boy either.

Luke had done a lot of new things yesterday and he almost wanted to congratulate himself for being brave but nothing he did seemed right to be applauded.

But they were small steps towards unravelling Michael so Luke decided he deserved something for that. 

The blue eyed boy walked towards his bathroom and stripped out of his creased clothes. A hot shower would do him some good before he decided what to do with his day.

***

Sadly, Luke had been thinking all day about a certain green eyed boy. His mind was going crazy- this was worse than the drugs -because right now, he was capable of controlling his thoughts but he seemed to have forgotten how.

Luke craved Michael's presence; wanting to sit with him and drink until three am, the devil's hour, and see if maybe the green eyed boy hid some demons of his own. 

God, Luke really hated himself for slowly falling into Michael's trap.

His two friends had warned him about this and he thought there was nothing to worry about but one night with the boy and Luke was already willing to do anything to see him.

He stood up and got himself a paper and a pen. Sitting down at the counter, he wrote Michael another letter. 

It wasn't meant for Michael, just about him. And as Luke spilled all his thoughts and wants, he realised Michael had taken over, the dark haired boy was controlling Luke's mind already.

He wanted to hate him for it but the blond knew that one look in those green eyes would make him weak. And Luke wasn't about to give up time with Michael.

Michael was a pathetic excuse of a human. Hiding away in his dark house, drinking till he forgot his name. Smoking till the room became foggy and the smell of drugs was too powerful to ignore. 

Michael was weak; running away from all his struggles and the voices in his head just because the world had revealed itself to him. 

No ones life was entirely flowers and sunshine but Michael seemed to be struggling with these truths the most, which was maybe why Luke hated him. 

Luke lived in this shitty world too but he didn't fall into those bad habits because he knew they didn't fuck up the world they only fucked up you. 

Everyone cared for their home but no one cared for the people living on it.

Luke found himself pushing the letter away into a cupboard and he slipped into his converses. He left his hair in its usual mess and made his way towards Michael's home. 

The nerves hadn't made their appearance today and Luke didn't have too much trouble walking up to the grey door. 

The pale skinned boy took a breath and knocked lightly on the door, not expecting it to open as quick as it had. 

Michael stood on the other side, eyes creased and lips in a frown. His green eyes travelled Luke's body as he made no effort to speak. 

Luke cleared his throat and made his way inside uninvited, he wasn't sure where the confidence had come from. He shut the door behind him and pushed Michael up against the wall, surprising the older boy. 

"You're pathetic, you know that?" Luke questioned.

Michael's eyes widened in confusion as he looked at Luke and Luke's blue eyes wondered across his face, a few seconds too long spent admiring his lips before his own came crashing down against Michael's.

Michael's lips moved against his, straight away, the kiss rough and messy. Luke easily giving into Michael as he was flipped around, back hitting the wall and front pressed against Michael. 

"And you're a fucking idiot for coming here." Michael snarled, "Should've kept these pretty lips away from me."

Michael's kisses were addicting and Luke whimpered when the older boy bit down on his lips. He could feel the smirk Michael had on but he didn't seem to care, only boosting the boy's ego as he pulled him in closer.

The black haired boy pulled away, only to place feverish kisses on Luke's neck, sucking harshly on his collarbones. Luke threw his head back against the walls, allowing Michael to continue his assault. 

"Why the fuck did you come?" The boy growled as he littered Luke's neck with marks.

"I told you this last night." He whimpered. The blond bit his lip harshly, eyes rolling to the back of his head, "To help you f-forget."

The words seemed to rile up Michael, his hands roughly grabbing Luke's hips and pulling him against his own body. Luke whined for friction. 

"And I thought I told you it didn't help."

Michael rolled his hips against Luke's, watching the younger melt into his touch and whine for more. He was so fucking pretty, his whines hot and needy and hell if Michael kept away.

"P-please." Luke begged. "Do something."

The older boy smirked in amusement, hands tight on Luke's hips, all his actions had come to a stop making the younger snap his eyes open to reveal the oceans in them.

"Thought you said this was about me?" Michael questioned.

"It is." The blond replied through gritted teeth, "Have sex with me and I'll help you forget. You won't need to drink all the time and pay for cigarettes. Y-you've got me to do anything you want to."

Michael pulled his lips back, admiring how flustered Luke was already. He leaned forward to brush the damp hair on the boy's forehead away. Michael wasn't too sure because Luke wasn't a bad person, he was innocent. He wouldn't be helping Michael and he definitely wouldn't be helping himself. But maybe Michael wanted this.

He was slightly skeptical as he asked, "You sure?"

Luke nodded eagerly, pulling Michael closer and kissing him hard. "Please." He whispered, "I don't mind. I wanna help you."

Michael nodded quickly, kissing the boy hard on his lips and holding him close. He wasn't going to get better. 

Their kisses were rushed and their hands were desperate for something to touch and hold. Both boys were eager to feel something. They just wanted to connect with someone and not feel alone for once. And the two guessed they kinda found it in each other.


	13. Missing Home

Luke was curled up on the mattress, breaths heavy and body ruined. His clothes were thrown around alongside Michael's and his body was sore and still so sensitive.

The blue eyed boy wouldn't mind doing it all over again. He had insisted for Michael to go as rough as he wanted and the dark haired boy hadn't held back; purple marks littered Luke's neck, chest, thighs- everywhere. His hair damp on his forehead and his entire body was flushed pink. 

God, Luke had never felt so good in his life. 

But now he was alone, Michael had rolled away from him, taking some time to catch his breath before he left quietly. The running water of the shower echoed through the empty apartment and Luke tried hard not to cry.

All he wanted was to be friends with Michael but now they had had sex. Fuck! Luke was the one who had initiated it. 

The blond ignored the slight pain between his legs as he stood up and collected his crumpled clothes, pulling them on in a rush. He tried to clean up Michael's room as much as he could before he heard the water from the bathroom stop running. 

The blue eyed boy quickly rushed out of the room, grabbed his shoes and left the apartment. Luke wouldn't be able to face Michael. His blond locks were stuck to his skin, cheeks stained with a few tear tracks and his neck revealed some of his hickeys. His creased clothes hung off him and Luke was positive he had accidentally grabbed Michael's shirt because it was too big on him. He knew he looked a right mess so he kept his head down. His fingers clutching onto the laces of the converses he had no time to put on.

***

Michael knew he had fucked up the minute he had left Luke there all alone in his bed. He stood under the warm water, eyes closed as he felt his lashes clump together and the water escape through the creases of his lips until it reached his tongue. 

His dark hair was matted to his neck and he let out a breath to calm himself down. 

Michael had already figured out Luke. It wasn't really hard to. The way he stood, head slightly bowed and feet nudged against one another, standing slightly on edge. He was small and innocent and oh so delicate and fuck, Michael should have declined his offer right there. 

Yes, he regretted his decisions but Michael wouldn't take it back because seeing the blond so needy and flushed underneath him was something else. 

They were as close as strangers but the way Luke held him close and whined for more, the way he moaned out Michael's name and ran his fingers through Michael's hair had made Michael feel something he had never had the pleasure to taste and god would Michael do it again.

So standing there, under the burning spray, Michael couldn't seem to let his mind drift away from the thought of the pretty blue eyed boy.

When he finally stepped out of the steamed shower to look at himself in the mirror he wasn't surprised to see his usually pale body a light pink. 

Michael wrapped his towel around his waist ignoring the shuffles coming from outside. He had an idea of what he'd be met with when he opened the door but it still hurt when he was greeted with the empty silence and cold air. 

Michael really fucking hated himself for pulling the same shit all the time. 

Luke had wanted to be friends and maybe they could've been friends even after having sex because Luke was the one who offered but now it would just be awkward. 

Michael still wanted to be around Luke and not just for sex but also because the blond seemed to intrigue him. Michael thought he had scared him away but clearly he hadn't because Luke had come knocking twice. God, the two had even got high together and Michael had never done that with anyone before. 

The pale boy walked around his apartment, mind as messy as his wardrobe and hopes as big as the sky. 

He had no belief in him and Luke ever becoming friends but maybe they could be acquaintances or just get high together or even be fuck buddies. Michael didn't know to be honest and he didn't even care. 

He just wanted to see more of Luke in his life. 

His mind wasn't able to give up what little interaction he had just had. And now he wanted it all, the conversations, the intense stares the soft touches and the feeling of their bare skin against one another. 

Michael just wanted to pretend that he was loved for a few hours.

He missed the feeling of comfort and warmth so much. All the depressed boy wanted was to find his way home.


	14. Car Rides

After several hours of contemplating, Michael had gathered up the courage to knock on Luke's door; hoping that he hadn't read the wrong number from Luke's post box.

He stood outside in the cold, arms stuffed into his ripped denim jacket. The dark haired boys wishes were fulfilled because the blond had finally opened his door. He looked surprised to see Michael and Michael seemed to be lost for words. 

"Um, hi. I just- I wanted to.." Michael took a breath, already annoyed at himself. "Thank you for tidying up my room earlier and yeah. I wanted to thank you."

The younger blond had pink cheeks and Michael wished that Luke would look up into his eyes instead of ignoring him. He was anxiously playing with his lip ring and Michael couldn't tear his eyes away from it. 

He had felt that small ring against his lips and his skin. And Michael really wanted to feel it wrapped around him- fuck. Now wasn't the time.

"I know I said I don't hang out with people and stuff but I'd like to take you somewhere Luke. I wanna show you some things." 

The older boys words had finally managed to reach the Luke because his blue eyes looked up, desperately scanning Michael for the truth. 

"R-really?" He stuttered in shock and Michael only nodded. He already regretted his decision. 

"Yeah, only if you don't mind."

Luke shook his head straight away, rather quickly and both boys seemed to notice. Michael chuckled at the redness that reappeared on his cheeks and around his neck. He also noticed the marks from last night; the ones he had left. They were so dark against Luke's pale skin. Michael needed to distract himself before he got hard.

He instantly felt bad though, he hadn't exactly gone easy on the boy and when they had finished he had just left Luke lying there all alone in the cold sheets. But Michael held too much pride inside of him to apologise so he threw his guiltiness to the back of his mind and locked it away. 

Luke was already changing him and he didn't want that. He just wanted to help the blond understand his world so he could stay away. 

"Okay cool." Michael stated, "I'll pick you up at seven, is that okay?" 

Luke nodded, giving Michael a shy smile. "That's okay."

Michael nodded, ready to walk away but he found himself staring at the blond instead. His green eyes raked him thoroughly, from his shy stance to his big blue eyes and last of all the huge creased t-shirt that wasn't his. 

He smirked slightly, "Nice shirt. You can keep it if you want."

Luke went as red a cherry, he bit his lips and looked down, having forgotten about his choice of clothing. His voice was shaky as he spoke, "Sorry I was in a rush and I picked the wrong one." 

Michael shrugged it off, "No worries. You look good in it. I'll be going now." And then the older walked off, unaware of the lingering gaze from the blue eyed boy he was leaving behind. 

***

The blond was standing behind his door anxiously, his feet weren't keeping still and his fingers were tangled together. He was dressed in a pair of black skinnies and had kept Michael's t-shirt on. He watched the clock intently; counting down each second until it was precisely seven pm. 

Luke gulped heavily and looked expectedly at the door, finally hearing the loud knocks from the dark haired boy. He checked the clock to see it was nearly ten minutes past seven. 

Taking a huge breath, Luke opened his door to see Michael. The dark haired boy nodded at Luke once the blond gave him a small smile. 

Quickly, the blue eyed boy locked the door and followed Michael down the old steps of his apartment. When they reached the reception and walked out of the building, Luke's anxiety seemed to increase so he took his hands out of his pockets and started fidgeting with them. 

Michael didn't seem to notice his nervousness, instead he began walking towards a battered silver car. Luke followed quietly not judging the state of the vehicle because Luke didn't even have a car. If it worked then that's all that really mattered, right?

The car beeped quietly and Michael slipped inside, making Luke blush and hurry to get in too.

It was dark, as expected, because it was November which meant it was cold too. The wind crackled and the streets were eerily empty. The street lamps lit up the empty roads and pavements and overall, the area looked scruffy. Plastic bags and cans littered the sides and alleyways. 

But the two boys had been living here for a while. It was a makeshift home, something slightly better then the real thing so they weren't complaining. 

"Do your seatbelt or don't, I don't care." Michael mumbled as he started up his car. 

Luke looked around quickly, finally tugging it on and then sat back, letting out a breath. "Where are we going?" He asked quietly. 

The car was driving at a decent pace, the lights from outside shining inside every few seconds and Luke decided to focus his attention on his hands that rested on his lap. 

"No where nice." Michael replied bluntly and Luke nodded not wanting to ask anything else. 

Michael's answers were blatant and he seemed annoyed already, Luke didn't want to provoke him any further. 

The blond let his blue eyes wonder around the old car, the darkness not letting him see much but he was content. The car smelt faintly of cigarettes and surprisingly Luke didn't seem to mind.


	15. Sad Boys

The car windows were rolled down but the two boys weren't inside. They were sat on the boot of the car, Luke perched up whilst Michael lay down against the cold metal. They were in the middle of an empty car park and Luke couldn't help himself from worrying. 

"Relax blondie, I come here all the time. No one comes here, it's just us."

Luke fiddled with his fingers and glanced over his shoulder, sighing. 

"Here."

The blond raised his eyebrows at the rolled up stick, it was different from the usual cigarette Michael had. "What's that?"

The dark haired boy rolled his eyes, "It's a joint."

He sighed when seeing Luke's face, "Weed."

Luke looked hesitant and Michael didn't want to wait so he took it back and lit it up for himself instead.

Luke glanced at the pack of beers behind him and then at Michael. The older boy watched him nonchalantly as he blew out the smoke from his mouth and Luke reached out for a can. 

Michael cheered and lay back down closing his eyes and Luke tipped the can back, drinking the cold liquid with a smile. 

"So this is all you do." He asked and Michael hummed. "Pretty much."

Luke nodded and lay back down too, pushing the beer away. He turned to his side, studying his neighbours face quietly until Michael opened his eyes and looked at him. Luke blushed but didn't look away, instead sitting up and leaning on his elbows as he drank.

Michael's green eyes seemed to linger on the pale skin of Luke's neck as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down and then the dampness of his lips as he put the can away. Luke gave him a small grin, blue eyes shining in the dark of the night. 

Michael was glad the lamps in the car park hadn't been broken. 

He offered the blond his joint once again and Luke leaned forward taking it between his lips. 

"Fuck Luke, you gotta stop doing that." Michael groaned.

The blond shrugged and sat up. 

It was cold out but he was warm here, with the drugs and with Michael. He seemed to understand why Michael liked doing this and he could see himself slightly liking it too. The haziness in his mind didn't matter to him, he couldn't remember much, only Michael, but he didn't mind. 

Luke couldn't get his mind to work, the chemicals in his bloodstream made him warm and and he smiled happily. He liked this feeling, he wasn't worried or stressed. He was just existing and Luke had been doing that for a long time but now it seemed to have a meaning. 

"I think I like this more now." Luke admitted, catching Michael's attention.

"What?" The older boy scoffed, "Getting high?"

Luke nodded, "Yeah. Everything feels better. It looks better too."

The blond placed his hand down beside him, fingers grazing Michael's hands. "Look Mikey." With his other hand he pointed up at the sky. "There are crystals."

But Luke found himself being pulled up and shoved into the car, a small frown forming upon his pink lips. 

"That's the fucking rain you idiot."

Luke leaned his head to the side, staring at Michael questioningly. His blue eyes were huge and Michael was caught up in them. "Fuck you really are gone."

The younger boy giggled and leaned back in his chair, "No I'm not, I'm right here."

***

It was nearly three in the morning and Michael and Luke were still in the small car in the empty car park. The rain had only got more heavy, but that wasn't why they had stayed. 

Smoke filled their car and the two only seemed to bask in its presence. Luke's finger was pressed against the foggy glass, following the raindrops and Michael was sat watching him. The older boy had droopy eyelids and he leaned against the cold glass to keep himself awake. For some reason, everything Luke did seemed to fascinate him. 

"Mikey, my head feels funny."

"Sleep it off."

"But I can't go sleep here."

"Want me to drive you home?" The older boy asked and Luke nodded. 

"Well I can't you idiot, I'm high. It's not safe."

The pale boy sighed, "How do you do this? My head feels funny and I just want to go home."

"Well we can't go back, so deal with it."

"Not back there." Luke said quietly. He moved his finger away from the window and looked away. "I want to go back home. I miss my mum."

Michael gulped heavily and looked at the sad boy beside him. "Why don't you?"

"She doesn't like me a lot." Luke whispered. His voice cracked and Michael felt bad. He offered Luke his drink and the blond shook his head. "She never wanted me to drink."

Michael nodded blankly, not knowing what to do. He couldn't deal with his pain, so this was his escape but somehow Michael had managed to land himself with Luke's pain too. And the booze only seemed to bring it out more.

What a fucking mess the pair were.

"No one really likes me." Luke said sadly. He wiped his cheeks and looked over at the older boy. 

"W-where's your family?" He asked.

Michael's response was quick and cold, it scared Luke. "I don't have any."

The blond frowned, "That's not true, everyone has a family."

"Well I don't." Michael spat. 

The ignorant blond didn't believe the boy. "Yes you do. You must. Everyone has a mum and dad."

"I told you I don't!" Michael snapped, green eyes glaring at Luke.

"You don't have to be rude."

"Well if you stopped asking your fucking questions, I wouldn't have been rude."

Luke curled up into a ball and closed his eyes. He felt the tears run down his cheeks.

"I didn't mean to."

Michael scoffed and placed his can down in his cup holder, the sound wasn't too loud but for Luke's drug infected mind it seemed to bang too loudly and it made him flinch. 

"I want to go home." He whispered and Michael sighed. The dark haired boy turned the other way, ignoring Luke and got comfy, closing his eyes, "You can't so go to sleep."

And Luke had no choice but to close his eyes and try to fall asleep in the cramped up car.


	16. Where Did My Family Go?

Luke hated working. It was always cold and always dark when he walked home. Before, he didn't mind as much but now he just couldn't stand it. He ran a hand through his damp hair and sighed as he walked up the dark steps. The lighting in the corridor wasn't working and Luke couldn't find it in him to care.

Just as he arrived at his house, he heard a familiar voice and he turned around meeting the dark eyes of his neighbour. 

"Hi Luke, it's been a while." Calum said, walking towards him with a smile. Luke nodded quietly. 

"How have you been?" The friendly boy asked.

"I'm fine." Luke mumbled. "How are you? How's Ashton?"

Calum leaned against the brick wall and watched Luke, humming at his question. "We're good. But you don't seem fine."

"I am." Luke insisted, starting to unlock his door. 

The blond boy was the complete opposite, his skin was paler than usual and he had bags under his eyes and his heart hurt because he was missing too many people. They all owned a little bit of Luke's heart which Luke hadn't wanted to give but he had always been weak. 

"Are you sure?"

Luke nodded and looked at Calum, weakly offering him a smile. "Just miss my mum, you know how it gets. Maybe I'll call her."

Calum nodded with a soft smile, "That's a good idea. I'll see you around."

Luke shot him one last smile before he slipped inside his cold, dark apartment and fell against the door, small sobs racking through his lifeless body. 

No one knew, except himself and Michael who he had foolishly told. Luke's family didn't live far away but emotionally the boy was a thousand miles away from their love. He just wanted to make his parents proud and get a hug from his mum. 

He had the best childhood ever. Luke's dad would take him to and from school and his mum would read him bed time stories. Luke's two brothers would allow him to play football with them and their older friends and he always felt like he was on top of the world.

Growing up, his mum was his saviour. She loved him like anything, he was always favoured more than his brothers but he never gloated and his brothers loved him too. Because it was normal, he was the youngest, they would look after him and give him advice on how to get girls and sneak out.

But when he hit high school, things changed. The people were different, Luke was always sad, he started failing classes. He became a disappointment and his parents couldn't meet his eyes. He had no friends and it got worse when he realised he was gay. 

His parents never commented on his sexuality but his brothers had a lot to say. They had tried to set him up with girls from his classes, girls in older years, college woman. Trying to make him 'normal' but Luke was who he was and they didn't accept that.

Luke didn't want girls, he just wanted boys.

They didn't kick him out but Luke knew they wanted him gone so when he had saved up enough money, he left. He remembered that day like anything, they acted normal- like nothing was going on. Like their son wasn't leaving. His dad or his brothers weren't there. Just his mum, but Luke knew she didn't want to be there either.

That was the last hug Luke ever got from his mum but even then it wasn't real, she hadn't even wrapped her arms around him as tight as he had. Luke never wanted to let go, but he did to make them happy. And now it had been years since he had seen them.

Luke was dying for just a phone call, a small conversation. He wanted to let them know how he was getting on, he wanted them to know how small they made him feel and he wanted them to want him back.

Luke still hoped.

***

The blond was leaning against the railing of his balcony, warm cup of tea in his hands and eyes closed as he relished the cold night air and noises from the city. It ruffled his messy locks and he felt so empty. 

His mind was vacant and his heart was numb like his fingers and even the music playing from underneath him couldn't make him happy. 

Michael was playing his guitar after a long time, Luke had been waiting to hear his voice but now he didn't care. He thought back to when Michael got him high and Luke really wanted to feel that again. Because instead of being sad and empty he'd be too distracted by the bright colours and the pretty pictures in his mind. Luke underestimates his mind too much.

The sad boy put the rest of his cold tea down and pinched his sinus, his eyes studied the small amount of stars that had managed to shine through the thick fog of pollution and he scoffed at the thought of all those little children wishing upon them tonight. 

Didn't they know? Wishes never came true.


	17. Talk To Me

Michael had surprisingly been playing his acoustic more. He wasn't in the mood for his usual antics and staying locked up inside was driving him insane so he had ended up reaching out for the instrument which lay abandoned in the corner of the room.

He played his guitar every day, resorting to playing outside each night in hopes of maybe spotting Luke. 

Michael hadn't seen the blond in ages and he wasn't going to lie and say that he was not at all curious about his whereabouts. 

The dark haired boy was unaware of the depressing storm that had seemed to rain its wrath upon the blue eyed boy living above him.

***

The morning, after being dropped off by the Michael, Luke had fallen onto his bed sleeping straight away and waking up in the evening. Since then, he had kept falling and falling into a darker part of his mind. A cruel chamber containing all the harsh words and memories that once had had the ability to fill his weak heart with stones and weigh him down. 

A part of Luke that had only been reopened by the drugs. And Luke should've regretted taking them but he was so fucking numb he had no say. 

Feeling sad was hard but feeling numb was fucking terrifying because Luke didn't know if he was going to be okay. 

***

Michael sipped on his coffee, cringing at the now cold bitter liquid. He pushed the mug away and walked over to his cupboard, opening it up to look for Luke's letter. 

But upon opening the door, a few other pieces of paper escaped making Michael gulp hard. He could feel the lump that was stuck in his throat. The dark haired boy already felt sick but he couldn't stop himself from opening the crumpled letter, his calloused fingers ran over the worn out bends of the envelope.

Green eyes trailed across the neat black ink, and with each word he read, his eyes seemed to tear up. Michael would receive these letters once a month, and then for the next week or so, he would be so high on drugs he couldn't remember what was making him like this in the first place. 

It was his mum. She was missing him. 

The dark haired boy was aware of how cruel he was for making the woman suffer but she was making him suffer too. He was being selfish, but just like earlier, his pride meant too much.

He stuffed the letters back in, forgetting all about Luke's one as he stood up and quickly wiped his tears. Michael switched off all the lights in the house and he stuffed his feet into his boots, ruffling his hair a bit before leaving his apartment with the slam of the door.

***

As soon as his door opened, the older boy invaded his residence, smashing his lips onto thinner ones and letting his arms wrap around Luke's thinner torso.

And Luke didn't even get a say, not that he minded, because he melted into Michael's touch straight away. Trailing his hands up Michael's neck, to grip onto his black hair, making the older sigh.

Their earlier conversation flashed through Luke's mind and the blond had to take a step back to ask but also breathe. His hands rested upon Michael's chest- steadying his breaths whilst also feeling Michael's.

"What's wrong?" He asked quietly, looking up into green eyes. 

Michael hadn't expected the question and he blinked twice, off guard.

Luke's fingers gently brushed through Michael's hair as his blue eyes studied the blank face in front of him. He was still wrapped up in Michael's arms, he really, really liked that feeling. 

"Why'd you come here Mike?" He asked again, finally getting a response. 

"Wanted to forget something."

Luke nodded. He really wanted to find out what was troubling his pretty neighbour but he also didn't want to intrude so he did what he promised and he kissed the porcelain coloured boy.

Luke yet again, let himself be taken advantage of as Michael trailed his lips down his neck.

The blond knew he was pathetic and weak, that was exactly why his parents were so ashamed of him so why not live up to their low standards? It's not like he would ever be a part of their lives again.

Luke couldn't take Michael's kisses anymore, he hadn't realised how pent up he had been the past week. He dragged Michael to his bedroom and pushed him down, climbing on top of him and pouring all his emotion into their kiss. It was rough, Luke fighting for all control even though they both knew that was Michael's role.

The man beneath Luke reached up to hold his cheeks and then he felt how wet they were. The younger boy flushed a bright red, he couldn't stop the tears so he pulled away, straddling Michael as he cried. 

"I'm sorry." He rushed.

The blond quickly dried his cheeks and bent down to kiss Michael, rolling his hips in an attempt to forget his pain but even Michael wasn't that much of an asshole. 

"I know I said I came here to forget, but I never wanted to hurt you. Forget about me for a minute, tell me, what's wrong with you?" Michael mumbled. 

Luke pulled away, lips still grazing Michael's. His eyes were open and he stared into Michael's emerald coloured ones in silence. The older boys hands trailed down to Luke's hips and held him softly, like he was scared Luke would snap.

"Talk to me Luke. We're here to help each other, tell me what's going on?"

The blond rolled onto his side and buried his face into Michael's chest: some sort of happiness or relief spread through his body as Michael pulled him in and nuzzled his face into his neck, lips placing small kisses onto Luke's skin.

This was a whole new side of Michael that Luke never thought existed but clearly he was wrong. Luke gripped onto the dark haired boy tightly. 

"I miss my family." He sobbed. "I never see them anymore because they hate me. I haven't done anything wrong."

The blond hiccuped quietly, his blue eyes were red and sore and his tear stained cheeks were pink. Michael took some pity on the boy as he rubbed his back, he wondered what was going on in Luke's life. The boy was probably one of the nicest people Michael had ever met, what had he done to his family?


	18. Mine For The Night

Luke felt better than he did since he last spoke to Michael. He'd occasionally bump into him but they never really spoke. However, every evening, the lanky blond would sit outside on his balcony and listen to the soft sound of Michael's guitar and sometimes- if he was lucky -Luke would hear his voice.

Luke missed Michael's company. He missed Michael. 

He had strange feelings towards Michael, it couldn't be infatuation, they hardly knew each other. But if the pair were to spend one more night together, Luke knew the thick, harsh ropes would've wrapped around his neck, bounding him to Michael in the most dangerous way possible.

Michael was trouble: dark smoke in the air damaging fragile lungs. Flickering yellow lights and snowflakes that danced around intriguing you until you walked into your own grave.

Luke fed into his fire.

This was all new to the delicate boy. And he was only in it for Michael. God, how sad was he?

***

Pale fingers wrapped around dark cotton, red lips opening to take deep breaths. He was beautiful, so beautiful. With those sparkling eyes that only lit up when he was out of his head. Only happy when he lost himself.

Maybe if Luke had that than he wouldn't be so fucking miserable.

The blond boy leaned in, to take a sniff. Shaky fingers still clutching Michael's shirt as he crawled forwards, like before. Only this time, Luke wasn't out of his mind- yet.

His gaze was scattered everywhere, the drugs making him antsy.

"What d'you want?" Michael groaned. Not in annoyance.

Luke stayed quiet, taking his place on Michael's lap. The older took his time, letting his hand wrap around Luke's waist.

Luke's eyes lit up. 

His skinny hands reached up to wrap around Michael's neck; Luke leaned in for a kiss.

The room was dimly lit, powder on the table and smoke in the air. A familiar scene for the two.

They liked hurting themselves. They liked the slow suicide.

Michael let his lips close in on Luke's and let his fingers trail on the boy's thin hips, fingers rising under his top to touch the soft skin. 

Luke and Michael kissed like they weren't high but like they were in love.

Taking their time and savouring each graze of their lips and touch of their tongues. Luke sighed happily, against Michael's lips. 

"I'm slowly killing you."

The blond's fingers traced Michael's jaw, still kissing him softly. "No you're not." He murmured against Michael's pink lips. "You can't kill someone like me, I died ages ago."

Silence. 

Michael didn't respond, a little bit shocked, Luke had to move back, dazed blue eyes locking with green ones. Swiftly, he licked his lips and hid his head in the crook of Michael's neck. Pink lips grazing the skin ever so softly before pressing a light kiss to it.

"You're not killing me." Luke whispered, "But I wouldn't mind if you did. I would be honoured to be ruined by you, everyone else hurts me too much."

Michael's fingers dropped from Luke's hips making the younger frown. He stayed hidden away however, face nuzzled into the pale boys neck as he found comfort in Michael's embrace. 

"I'd mind. I'm not a murderer."

"You're not." Luke looked. "You're Michael. And you're mine."

Their noses touched softly, breaths mingling and lips yearning to touch. Luke was looking straight into Michael's emerald eyes. Their eyelashes nearly touched; it was exhilarating being this close to the pale boy and Luke loved every second of it.

"I'm not yours." Michael's voice was cold. "We're not friends, we're not anything."

"Only for tonight Michael, please?" Luke's lips were near trembling. "Please. I need you."

Luke watched Michael tug his pink lips, dark forest eyes looking down at the pairs touching bodies before he gave a slight nod.

"Only for tonight?" He asked.

And Luke promised.

***

The apartment reeked, sour smells and sex lingered in the air but the two boys basked in it. It was completely dark in the flat except for the faint light provided from the windows: Michael and Luke kept loving.

Soft moans and whimpers echoed through the quiet hallways as Michael touched the younger boy, pink lips against pale skin and blue eyes hidden because of sheer pleasure.

Michael's green eyes stuck out brightly in the dark, like a cat as he watched the skinny boy in his bed. 

Back arched, head bent back and pink lip in circles as he moaned Michael's name, pleading for more and more. All he wanted was Michael tonight and Michael felt loved. He felt like he meant something.

He knew he wouldn't be able to see Luke normally again. Because now he didn't just want Luke, he needed him. 

"Michael." Luke called out his name in a breathy whisper, blue eyes bright in the dark room. Michael gulped hard. 

"Come here, wanna kiss you."

And Michael was sure the dead muscle in the middle of his chest was slowly coming back to life. 

The black haired boy leaned down, watching the pretty boy that was his.

"Luke."

The blonds eyes were already focused on him; Michael had never seen something so angelic before. 

Small blond strands of hair had started to curl up, blue eyes wide and lips a sinful red colour as he breathed heavily. Luke kept watching him and Michael couldn't breathe. He wanted to tell Luke how beautiful he looked.

"What's wrong?" Luke asked quietly but Michael had changed his mind. 

"Nothing." He mumbled before kissing Luke again, pain erupting in his chest as Luke kissed him eagerly. 

Michael wanted this to be more than one night. He thinks he wants this to be for forever.


	19. Yours

It was dark outside, thick, grey clouds hung over the sky shielding the world from the light. Harsh winds rattled through the empty streets.

Michael and Luke were together, all alone, in the empty alleyways of the cold city. Pale pinky fingers wrapped around each other, shyness from one and hesitation from another. 

One was excited from the small touch whilst the other was mentally losing himself inside his head. 

One was gripping on for sanity whilst the other saw it as a small glimmer of hope. 

It was quick, it was abrupt. The way Michael ruined Luke's light and cracked his heart. In just a few seconds the happiness began to leak from Luke's heart, cold and dull, seeping into his organs, into his gut making him gulp hard and his stomach feel full. 

"W-what's wrong? Did I do s-something?" The blond stuttered in fear, blue eyes wide and alert, analysing Michael.

The older boy was conflicted inside, he had never walked on stable ground. Each step he took was shaky and undetermined, regret in each decision. Michael wanted to start over again. He wanted to change. 

But that meant forgetting everything and he couldn't forget Luke.

"Why are we here?" He asked. Voice cold, it made Luke shiver. "We're not a couple,we're not friends. We're nothing."

The blond tugged at his lips harshly, forcing the sadness down. 

"I know but-"

Michael turned to look at Luke, green eyes harshly judging him. 

And fuck, Luke couldn't focus. 

Michael's pale skin looked ghostly, red lips cracked and eyes bright. Yes, it was dark but the faint light from street lamps made him look ethereal. His brows furrowed together in anger and his nose scrunched up because that's how it always did when he frowned. Luke could cry because he was so beautiful. He could cry because Michael was still hiding himself away, pocketing his sadness until he could let it spill out in the contents of cheap cigarettes, dark nights and old music. 

The blond fumbled over his words, a light pink flush covering his cheeks and the tips of his ears in the cold night. 

"Why can't it be like this? What's wrong with being friends?"

"For fucks sake Luke, friends don't fuck each other." Michael spat. 

Why couldn't Luke understand that?

"We can forget that." Luke suggested eagerly, "We can forget it, start new, be friends like I said."

"No."

"Why the fuck not?" Luke exclaimed, frustration forming inside of him. "What's so bad about me that we can't be friends?" His voice rose with each word, Michael's jaw clenched angrily. 

Within a second, Luke was pushed up against the harsh brick wall. He groaned lightly, his head right against the rough bricks making him peer up at Michael through his lashes. 

"Don't you remember what I told you that time? When we first met? What did I say Luke?" Michael demanded, eyes dark. Luke couldn't tell if his pupils had widened or if his usual meadow coloured eyes had turned dark like the forest during a storm but that didn't matter, they were still the most beautiful pair of eyes he had ever looked into.

"Fuck off." He mumbled, head falling to the side as he clenched his eyes shut to control the dull throb at the back of his head. 

"I know what you said but I don't care."

The next time Luke opened his eyes, Michael wasn't looking in them but instead down at his pale knuckles which were fisting the black material of Luke's jacket, keeping him pressed to the wall.

Luke chuckled humourlessly, eyes somewhere between closed and on the verge of opening, Michael's figure was blurry. His black hair a huge mess, a beautiful mess in its own way. 

Or maybe everything associated with Michael was beautiful. Right from the scar above his eyebrow to his dark clothes he wore or the black drawings scrawled on his body. His habit of smoking had become somewhat enduring, Luke joined in too now and the small pile of records he kept on the table near his window. 

"What?" The older boy asked, "What's funny?"

Luke shook his head, hands rising up to hold Michael's clenched fists in his own. The older boys eyes watched as Luke pulled him in closer, their heads nearly touched.

"Ever thought about me?" Luke asked, "Thought about if maybe I wanted to see you and wanted to spend some time with the depressed bastard above me?"

The stupid loved up blond boy raised his eyes to look his crush in the eyes. 

"I don't want to be friends either." He spoke, voice now a dull whisper. 

Luke didn't say anything.

Michael didn't either. 

It was quiet as the two breathed each other's air, Luke chuckling internally at his stupidity. Suddenly, Luke could feel the heat radiating off Michael's skin as he held his fists, Luke could feel the shakiness of Michael's grip and hear the increased breaths the dark haired boy was taking. 

"You're fucked." Michael breathed out finally, leaning in to rest his head against Luke's.

The blond laughed shakily, eyes fluttering shut so his lashes kissed his cheek. He could feel Michael's breath on his nose, they were so close and Luke loved it. 

"I know. Fuck, I know."

"If you don't want to be friends," Michael began, green eyes drinking in Luke's features, "then what do you want to be?"

The air should've been tense. Luke should've got stuck answering his question, he should've felt butterflies in his stomach, swarming up to his throat and cutting off his words but he didn't.

Instead he felt ecstasy, as he looked down avoiding Michael's green orbs. His grip on Michael loosened but Michael himself stayed in place, maybe even stepping in closer, taking advantage of everything Luke was giving him.

"I wanna be yours."


	20. Love Burns Like Lines Of Gas And Matches

It was Michael's birthday. And the dark haired boy was in bed, darkness prowled like a cat over his apartment. He breathed out light wisps of smoke, lightly tapping the side of the butt before watching the ashes sway down to the ground. 

Michael stepped out of his bed, pale feet coming in contact with the cold floor. He didn't know where his fucking socks were. Stumbling down the halls, Michael's gaze lingered on the cupboard beside his table. 

It was where he kept all the letters. 

He was still waiting for today's letter. Michael got one every year; pristine white paper enveloped with loopy black writing on the front, a small heart beside his name. It was the same every year, no extra hearts or additional words. Just plain and simple, 

To Michael Gordon Clifford

Michael threw each and every one into the cupboard, forgetting about them until the guilt made him so sick to his stomach that he had to open it despite not wanting to. 

This year made no difference; Michael was pale. Sat in the corner of his kitchen, fingers gripping tightly onto a glass of water, the boys throat had clogged up and his eyes were burning holes into the walls. 

He wasn't sure how many years more he still had to receive these letters, hell, he's surprised they still arrived at his letterbox. She should've died by now.

The pale boy gritted his teeth tightly and stood up, roughly pulling a jacket over his shoulders before slamming his front door shut.

***

Michael had checked numerous times, so desperate to see the white square of paper in his locker but it wasn't there.

There was no letter. 

Had she gone?

Michael had prepared himself years ago for this but now he seemed to have forgotten everything he had told himself. His green eyes were glassy and he stumbled over air, hastily wiping his cheeks dry. The sullen boy took shaky steps towards his apartment, trembling fingers gripping his door handle and he cursed when he forgot to unlock it. 

It was hard getting the key into the hole and then twisting it. Michael couldn't see well, the tears pooling in his forest eyes were making everything blurry. When he stepped back and bumped into someone his heart jumped slightly, not expecting someone else's company. 

Michael turned around only to be welcomed with warm, brown eyes. The stranger had beautiful tanned skin and a band shirt on, black trousers on his legs and shoes on his feet. He offered Michael a warm smile but the boy saw him falter. 

"Sorry." The stranger spoke, slipping his phone into his pocket. "I didn't see you there."

Michael nodded, clearing his nose quickly, "It's alright, it's my fault."

"Calum." The boy said, extending his hand. "We've met before but I'm sure you've forgotten me." 

Calum looked at Michael with pink cheeks and a soft smile, like he knew what Michael was going through. But he didn't, he had no clue. And Michael hated that he was so nice. 

"Michael." He replied, voice empty and not as sweet sounding as the male in front of him. "I don't think I've told you before."

"You haven't."

I'm not surprised, Michael thought. 

The birthday boy turned back around, finally unlocking his door.

"It was nice talking to you, Michael. See you around."

Michael only nodded before slipping away, into his safe place.

He let out a huge breath, kicking his shoes off and throwing his jacket onto the floor. He really didn't know what to do now. All this time he had been waiting, counting down the days internally until he knew he had lost her- but he had never spent anytime planning on what to do after.

The troubled boy grabbed for his jacket, fingers fumbling to undo the zip on his pocket before he pulled out the small clear bag.

He jumped when he heard a knock at his door. Quickly, Michael slipped the packet into his jeans pocket before dragging his feet towards the door; scowl prominent on his face.

Michael wasn't surprised to see Luke standing there in all his glory, cheeks pink and eyes bright. A black beanie was sat on his hair, messy blond locks stuck at from the top and he rocked on his heels, hands interlocked behind his back, patiently waiting for Michael.

Just like he always did.

It was clear he had just come back from work.

"Hey." He greeted softly, ocean eyes travelling over the sad boy in front of him with concern.

"You can't be here." Michael said, "Not today."

The blond frowned, "I missed you."

Michael gulped hard, the small packet in his pocket burnt to his skin making him feel all the more guilty and his heart was deceiving him as it ached in his chest.

"Sorry Luke you can't." He said a bit more quietly, the sadness still laced in his voice.

Luke's eyes lost the glint they once had and Michael felt like he was drowning in those sad, blue eyes. His hands were shaky and his throat clogged up but he stayed silent as he carefully watched the pretty blond at his door. 

Luke was biting on his lip ring, shoulders deflated and eyes watery. He wasn't this weak before. 

Michael had done this. 

And he couldn't take it, it was all his fault and he'd only make it worse.

The older boy pushed forward, pressing his lips to Luke's in a rush, his lips burnt with love and his body thanked him for the soft touch of Luke's skin. The blond gasped quietly and whimpered at all the passion Michael was giving. The dark haired boy had Luke pressed against the wall, in the middle of the hall with the dull, yellow lights flickering every once in a while making out the two boys to be nothing but a dark shadow in the corner of the hall. 

Michael's hands reached up to Luke's neck surprising both himself and the blue eyed boy when he tugged off the hat, in-between kisses, and shoved it into his back pocket; fingers curling into Luke's soft hair to savour every touch he could get.

The love spilt lines of gas through Michael's blood up to his heart; Luke's lips setting the match and putting the dark organ on fire. The pain was cruel and rapid, heat begging to spread its destruction onto the blond boy and Michael had to stop it. 

He pulled away, falling into Luke, head pushed between his neck- still keeping him pinned to the murky coloured, cream walls. Luke's chest was hating rapidly, small plants leaving his swollen lips and Michael pressed butterfly kisses to the sensitive skin of his neck. Fingers still caressing Luke's hair ever so carefully.

The green eyed boy stepped back, eyes instantly locking with the dazed blue orbs of Luke's.

There wasn't any chances of saving Michael really, Luke should've known that.

"I've got to go." Michael breathed out, lips red and skin white. His eyes shined with pain and Luke was still left leaning onto the wall, breathing hard as he watched his favourite boy crumble to pieces.

Michael took one last look at Luke, remembering as much as he could before he walked backwards and shut his door. Fingers digging into his thighs as a reminder of how pathetic he really was.

The small packet in his pocket burned and the lingering kiss on his lips haunted him, Luke's soft touches to his skin wouldn't be forgotten and the small pile of ashes left from his heart was what was left of their short lived time. 

Michael didn't know what to do.


	21. Loving You Is A Losing Game

Luke hated the colour black because it reminded him of Michael, how ironic, a depressed boy burning cigarette after cigarette and wearing the occasional black coated nail that Luke would run his finger over when they were in bed.

Michael made Luke feel lost in the black clouds of his own life but he also made Luke feel like the brightest star in the darkest galaxy. As much as he hated to admit it, Michael made him feel complete. Luke didn't need the alcohol and cheap cigarettes when he was with Michael, not really, he only needed them to forget his family. He didn't want to forget Michael. He didn't need to, the sad boy had somehow become Luke's personal drug, the small half smiles he gave Luke when he said something funny was all Luke needed. Or the soft cracks in his voice when he groaned Luke's name, Michael was sad but not around Luke.

When Michael was with Luke, he was alive. Not in the way most people wanted to be, he wasn't entirely happy and he never wanted to sit out in the sun and laugh with a huge group of people. When Michael was with Luke, he seemed content with his existence, like he had finally figured out why he was here. And if the pair's friendship consisted of dark nights and warm bodies or letters expressing their hidden feelings, no one needed to judge what made them happy.

It was fucking freezing, the moon seemed to have hidden itself away along with every star in the sky and Luke felt anger towards the world for abandoning him. But most of all, he was mad at Michael. 

Would you call it mad? He didn't know. He felt empty, numb like when you watch a sad film and you're left staring at the dark screen trying to put yourself together again. 

He jus wanted to be back with Michael, sat on the floor with smoke so thick they could hardly breathe or cramped up in his shitty car that smelt more like cheap nicotine than it did of life. Luke would rather be anywhere than sat on the cold park bench, hands stuffed in the pocket of Michael's hoodie as he shivered relentlessly.

Luke didn't want to be sat outside the wretched hospital fearing for Michael's life because, who was he really? Just a stranger boy he had met a few months ago who had managed to tie him down with the strings of his sadness. Fuck, Luke was so stupid for letting the bleak boy dull down his colours but he was thankful and he'd always be. He wasn't living a fake life now, he was living for himself and maybe Michael because Luke really liked Michael, he really did but now he questioned why he fell for the boy in the first place.

Michael seemed to bring him nothing but heartache but Luke couldn't forget the moments they shared. 

He's never forget their first kiss, rushed and sloppy and completely accidental on Luke's behalf and he would do anything to have those lips on his own again. Or the night when Luke felt the change in Michael's love, the older boy seemed more intent on guiding Luke to ecstasy than himself. Their bodies were warm and reunited against the cruel world and then they lay tangled together breaths heavy and smiles ghostlike.

Luke felt so close to Michael in that moment, their chests touched and their eyelashes fluttered softly as they looked each other in the eyes. So beautiful and safe; home, that's what Michael felt like. Years of chasing for that feeling and now Luke felt it in his aching heart. 

Luke smiled at Michael and for the first time, Michael had smiled back. Luke was stunned and so unbelievably happy he kissed Michael with everything in him. 

He got a few more smiles after that.

And Luke worried he'd never see them again because he didn't know if Michael would wake up. He wasn't sure how he'd survive not being able to look at those gorgeous, green eyes again.

Luke was just a small town boy who had lost himself along his teenage years. A few years living alone had resulted in him trying to love himself and the world around him; saving pocketfuls of love every time he truly felt happy. 

But he had given all of that love to Michael foolishly and now he was left empty, a huge Michael shaped hole in his heart.

He knew getting through to Michael would be tough, hell, loving him wasn't even on his list and now Luke seemed to have lost everything. 

However, he refused to cry. Blue eyes now red and skin cold to the touch; Luke hid his face in his hands, biting his lip to control his sudden urge to break down.

God, all Luke wanted was a little bit of loving from Michael. 

He just wanted Michael to be okay, he didn't want Michael to die, he wouldn't be able to deal with that- not after everything he had been through.


	22. I Just Want You Here With Me

Michael came back home in a few weeks. He was meant to be getting therapy, god did he need help. But Michael didn't want it; he didn't need it because it would have no effect on him. 

He returned back to the dull four walls of his life, green eyes had lost all life's colours. 

Luke had been watching him silently: watching him take small steps and before the door could close shut, the blond pushed in, invading Michael's home. 

Sadness in the form of anger lingered in the deep blue oceans of his eyes. Red undertones to his skin and blotchy cheeks; Luke had been crying every day waiting for Michael to come home.

"You bastard!" The blond cried, falling into the Michael's chest and sobbing. 

Long, skinny fingers clenched tightly to the dark cotton of his shirt as he hid his face in Michael's chest. The older boy fell back against the wall, holding Luke tight. He could feel the vibrations of Luke's body as he cried. 

"I'm sorry."

Michael wasn't really sorry. And Luke knew that but he pretended that he was because he needed to stay sane. 

"Why'd you do that? Why'd you leave?" He cried.

Michael's arms lay limb by his sides and Luke cried even more, aching for his soft touch. But Michael only revealed himself behind the scenes, under the covers, in bed. 

He pulled back, weakly hitting Michael's shoulders. 

"You're selfish," He snarled, "you're a pathetic piece of shit Michael, I hate you. I hate you."

Michael nodded his head, gulping hard. "I know, I'm sorry Luke, I'm so sorry."

Guilt lay thick in Michael's heart, clogging his veins. He couldn't seem to breathe. 

"I really am sorry."

Some truth spilled out in Michael's words and Luke's heart collapsed in relief. 

"God Michael, this is so fucked," Luke mumbled, eyes glassy. His heart needed tape to keep itself together. "..I'm so fucked."

Michael didn't hear.

***

The two were sat on the couch, Luke leaning against Michael's body, strong, tattooed arms wrapped around his thin waist.

Michael's world had flipped again in a matter of a few minutes. 

She wasn't dead, she was alive. And she needed Michael more than ever.

"Why'd you leave her?" Luke asked quietly.

Michael's foot tapped anxiously on the floor, his grip on Luke tightening. "It's 'cause I'm a coward."

"She's not well Mike, she needs you. If my mum needed me-" The sad blond stopped, his voice cracked, "I'd go within a second."

"I know."

Luke breathed heavily in the silent room. "I need you."

Empty.

His heart cracked even more. 

The letter and it's ripped envelope was left on the settee, where spilled cans of drink lay and ashes from smoke.

Luke's heart may as well be abandoned too, ruptured and ripped into little pieces.

"Let's get drunk. Do drugs, whatever, I don't fucking know."

"What?"

Luke looked over at his stupid lover, "I meant it."

"No- Luke, don't do that."

"Why not?" He questioned, "You said it yourself it helps. I'm not an idiot, I know it'll only make things worse but I couldn't give a shit Michael, I fucking hate my life."

***

Michael had never been in Luke's room before. The boy had begrudgingly taken Michael to his home, everything looked so much nicer in here. It smelt fresh too. Not like Michael's.

Luke was just so sad and Michael knew it was his fault.

"Luke.."

The pretty blond turned back, blue eyes never seemed to stop looking so big. Of course Michael had fallen for them.

He held the boy close to him, pressing a hand to his cheek. 

"I know what I said but please don't be like me, don't drink yourself away. You'll hate yourself."

The younger boy reached up to rest his hand on top of Michael's, he leaned lovingly into his hold. Empty eyes filling Michael's with pain. 

"You hate yourself? You shouldn't."

"I do."

"Don't," Luke's eyes filled with tears so quickly Michael was stunned. They ran down his cheeks and over Michael's hands; Luke was so fragile Michael feared he broke him. 

"What's wrong?" He asked softly, rubbing the boys cheeks. 

Luke cried harder, "You'll hate me."

"I won't." Michael promised, "I couldn't."

Luke finally looked into Michael's green eyes, his voice so small as he spoke;

"I- I think I love you."

"W-what?" Michael stuttered, his eyes widened in disbelief. 

Luke closed his eyes, fresh tears running down his red cheeks. 

"I love you Michael."

"No." Michael panicked, "You're only saying that cause you're high Luke. You don't mean it."

Michael couldn't read Luke's eyes. They were so big and bright, dilated pupils making him seem more innocent, more delicate. Fuck.

This was the first time the older regretted taking the drugs; the first time he regretted giving his drugs to Luke. This was the first time he regretted everything he had to do with Luke.

The blue eyed boy laughed quietly though none of them found anything amusing.

"No I'm not. This is the first time my feelings are truly speaking to me. I know how I feel Michael. I love you."

Michael winced at the words and moved his hands from Luke's cheeks, he looked wretchedly at his shoes.

"Don't do that to yourself."

Luke had heard him whisper the words so delicately and his eyes teared up, yet again. He clenched them shut, feeling the pain erupt in his heart. This was so hard. The sadness was never ending; a huge brick tied to a chain which had wrapped around his legs, pulling him back.

"It's too late."

"I can't love you!" Michael cried.

Anger now seeping into his words but Luke wasn't frightened anymore. He knew Michael, the good and the bad. 

The boy pushed his way into Michael's arms, forcing Michael to hold his hips even though he tried pushing away.

He leaned forward, both their breaths mingling with each other and their eyes glassy as they looked at one another. Michael hands were shaky as they reached up to touch Luke's cheeks and Luke smiled. 

Smiled even though he was in so much pain.

Abruptly, the blond leaned forward connecting their lips softly but Michael wasn't kissing him back. 

"Just pretend," Luke pleaded, "like you did before."

Green eyes looked sadly at Luke, what had he made the boy become? Someone so weak he clinged on so desperately to someone as cold as Michael. God, he was fucking selfish.

"That wasn't pretend." He whispered and he swore he saw a small flicker of light in Luke's blue eyes before the waves overtook.

Luke kissed Michael hard; Michael came to life and soon the pair were kissing desperately.

"Don't leave," Luke mumbled pathetically against Michael's lips. 

But he knew that no amount of loving could make Michael stay.


	23. It’s Too Cold For You Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Inside this place is warm, outside it starts to pour...”

"Michael, please-"

The green eyed boy hushed Luke by pressing their lips together.

"I've got you." Michael breathed heavily.

The words triggered Luke, eyes fluttering open revealing broken blue iris'.

"Don't leave me," he whispered, panting softly. "Oh, Michael- gosh.."

Luke fell flat against the bed, toes curling in pleasure as Michael never stopped. Their bodies were pink from the intense rush of heat flowing through them, ecstasy erupting in their veins: better than any drug they had ever taken.

"I love you." Luke mumbled, his fingers reached up to stroke Michael's cheek softly. "Please," he pleaded, "look at me Mikey."

The older man sniffed hard, picking his face up from Luke's neck, and revealing his glassy eyes. Luke's heart burned in the worst way possible. 

"Don't cry." He whispered, wiping his tears softly. His other hand pulled Michael in closer, crazy for his warmth. "I love you, don't cry."

Michael blinked hard, gulping heavily as he looked into Luke's eyes. His hips thrust in slowly, making Luke's lips curl into an 'O' as he moaned and whined softly. Loving Michael's temporary love.

Luke's visions was clouded; Michael's head lost in the clouds as they felt each other so intimately and loved like this was their last time. 

Closer, closer, closer. 

That's all Luke wanted, hands tight around his lover, pink lips brushing against the boys earlobes as he moaned his love. 

"Luke,"

Michael began his sentence, molars grinding against one another in pain and pleasure. What should he do?

It was cold outside, rain pouring relentlessly against the thin window panes and glass. But it was warm in Luke's bed, where Luke and Michael lay, their heavy breaths fogged up the glass.

"Luke?"

"Yeah.."

"I swear I- shit Luke.."

The young blond sucked desperately onto Michael's pale, sweaty skin. He was so fucking scared, he didn't want to hear Michael's words. He knew Michael didn't love him.

Luke wanted to spend the time marking Michael with the colour of his lips instead, his own personal stamp- a memory of what he had with Luke. What Luke had wanted to be a forever thing.

"Don't, not now, please.." Luke breathed, fingers scratching Michael's skin. "I'm close."

"Me too." Michael grunted, hands tight on Luke's hips.

Their lips clashed, fireworks took off inside of them; targeting their organs making their bodies ache. 

"I love you I love you I love you."

Michael held Luke close, Luke held Michael closer.

The dark haired boy fell onto Luke, legs intertwined and head hung low, hidden in the crevice of Luke's neck. 

"Me too." Michael mumbled quietly. "So much."

Luke sobbed, hands circling Michael's warm body with relief. His cheeks were wet and pink, eyes bright red and he started shivering. Thin body trapped under Michael's body but it wasn't long till Michael had warmed him up again, pressing soft kisses to his chest.

"You're lying." Luke mumbled, his blue eyes searched frantically in Michael's own, looking for a small ounce of lies and it hurt even more when he saw how empty and lifeless they were. Though the love was there and it was destructive, messy, ruined.

Luke shook his head sadly, kissing Michael desperately. 

"You love me." He mumbled sadly. 

"I love you." Michael confirmed, rather reluctantly. "You hate me."

Luke shook his head. "I hate the world, not you. Never you."

Michael sighed tiredly, pressing his head against Luke's. Luke's baby blue eyes fluttered softly making Michael's heart ache, Luke was so fucking beautiful. He deserved so much more than Michael's shitty love.

Michael reached up to brush the damp, blond locks affectionately, the tiniest smile finding its way into Luke's lips whilst Michael watched painfully. Why did he have to love Luke?

Why?

"Luke." he called softly. The blond hummed quietly.

"Don't forget me."

His eyes snapped open, the pain always caved deep in his ocean eyes; Michael had noticed it ages ago.

"If i ever die," he breathed, "don't forget me."

"You won't die, I won't let you."

Michael scoffed lightly but the look of pain on Luke's features struck him and he looked away feeling disappointed with himself.

"I'll die one day."

"That days not now, let us live for once Mikey, please."

Michael felt the rock in his throat pierce through his flesh but he nodded anyway, lying to the man he loved. 

"Okay."

"Okay?"

He breathed heavily, slightly nodding his head. "Okay."

Luke smiled softly, the action caught Michael off guard like always. Dimply cheeks, wide smile and eyes full of love, love only for Michael. He pulled Michael down, shuffling to turn aside and hide his face into Michael's chest, their warm bodies stayed touching in all was possible. Luke was in bliss. 

Michael held him close, closing his sad, green eyes as he pushed the thoughts away. 

Not now, he begged. 

Later.

And so, the rest of the day they spent hidden under the thick duvet of Luke's bed, bodies pressed tightly against each other as they claimed the warmth they hardly felt. 

Love and Pain grew within them, Michael never seemed to escaped the wretched emotion and Luke was immune to it, head already high up in the clouds; lost in reality. 

Michael couldn't pull him down to far the cruel world, he couldn't bare it. It was too harsh, for his Luke, so he played along with Luke's fantasy. Only for a few hours.

It was dark, no stars, no moon. 

Luke was tiredly holding a pillow close to his thin body, the duvet up to his neck as Michael stood quietly watching the boy he loved. 

His heart had broken a while ago and now he was numb, fingers tightly clenched beside him as the tears streamed down his skin. 

Michael would do anything to crawl back into bed and hold Luke close but he couldn't do that anymore. He had lost his chances and with everything he could muster, he turned around and walked out of Luke's warm room, down the dark halls and out into the cold world. 

Right where he belonged.


	24. I Love You Luke Hemmings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first part is Michael’s letter to those who might get confused.

Luke,

If you're reading this then you already know that I've gone. Our time together is over. Do you remember when you told me that I'd be happy? Promised yourself that you'd make me happy? I laughed at you inside because I thought it was impossible. I guess we were both wrong. Because I do know what it means to be happy. I know now, because of you. There's a lot of things that I've figured out, with you and without. And Luke, you never fixed me, not really, you just left me even more broken. 

I broke your heart Luke Hemmings and I'm sorry I'm not there now to help you heal. I'm sorry you woke up alone and cold in your bed without me, I'm sorry I'll never get to kiss your lips again. I told you I'd hurt you, I'm sorry for that too. I should've stayed away, I've always been a selfish bastard.

But I promise, I loved you. I love you. Right now, as I'm writing this, my heart hurts and my eyes feel like they're bleeding. It's cold without you, I'm missing you already. Your stupid laugh and your blue eyes. I'll never forget your eyes Luke.

God, I need to tell you that I love you like a drunk man needs his alcohol. It's too dangerous, it's wrong. You deserve better, so much more than cheap beer and sex, I never treated you right.

Yin and yang are each other's wholes but you didn't bring out the best in me. You only made me realise how much of a monster I am. I'm the darkness to your light, you're perfect. Absolutely perfect. I hate it Luke, I just can't do it, not without hurting you at least and I never want to do that again.

I've gone to visit my mother. Like you said. Fuck, tomorrow could be her last day for all I know. She doesn't deserve this, I don't either. The world never seemed to like me much but I guess it doesn't entirely hate me if it let me meet you. I miss her Luke. I hope you're proud of me.

Please don't do what I do. Don't smoke and don't drink. Make friends, discover the world or sit with your two neighbours and cry. Tell them how much you hate me. I know I'm not the best person. But please don't fuck yourself up. Don't do that to yourself. Don't try to forget me with the drugs, it doesn't help, you know that. I'm sorry for everything, scaring you, hurting you, leaving you. I'm sorry for it all.

But all those times I loved you in my bed, I meant it. I promise. All those times I kept you close and kissed your lips, ran my fingers through your soft hair- which smells nothing like your shampoo by the way- I loved you. 

I know that in the back of my head, deep down in my heart somewhere I'll never forget you. You'll always be taking up a little space of me which I'll never stop loving.

I love you Luke Hemmings.

Please don't forget me.

Yours, Michael.

***

Luke never really knew what to do with the silence.

Michael's apartment was exactly how he had left it, it was like he had never left. But Luke noticed the small, scruffy pile of letters messily stacked in the corner of the floor near the cupboard. Luke's letter was gone; Michael had taken that with him. 

Luke had never felt so void.

He was scrunched up into a tight ball, the lack of space restricted his lungs and he just wanted to disappear. His chest was heavy with pain, tears and scream of pain waiting to be released but Luke held back, biting his lips tight. He felt everything and nothing; wanting to cry but also feeling lost. 

The blond was hidden under the covers of Michael's bed, it was dark, Luke felt abandoned, isolated. Alone. 

Michael's smell lingered on the sheets resulting in the sudden up spring of tears in Luke's baby blue eyes. The smell was so comforting and familiar, it engulfed him tight, he felt like he was floating, the memory of Michael wasn't too far away but the pain strangled him. Fresh and raw. 

Michael Clifford had fucked him up.

Luke had never wanted to die so badly; he wasn't alive. He was on the verge of death, tied to a pole and waiting desperately for Michael to come back and hold him. Luke needed Michael desperately to give him that sense of living, needed his love to want to live. 

Fuck, Michael Clifford was everything Luke wanted but hated. 

Michael's letter was folded neatly, clenched tight between Luke's fingers and pressed to his heart. The same pathetic words were repeatedly mumbled, eyes clenched shut as he prayed to whoever was up there to listen and help. He just wanted Michael.

The tears ran down hot and quick. All Luke wanted was a little bit of loving; Luke would've done anything for Michael's tender touch.

Michael slipped through his fingers like trembling fingers carrying sand, it was inevitable to keep, it just flooded down, creating a mess that needed to be cleaned. 

Luke was in pieces. He had never felt so fucking sad in his life.

His choked sobs burned his throat and the pillow was damp with tears, his sore skin stuck to the wet cotton. 

Luke didn't know what to do now.

He had never wanted to hurt Michael- gosh no. He only wanted to own a little piece of his heart but now Luke had coloured the walls black and lost his own during the way.

He cried and cried and cried. 

Cried because Michael was gone. Cried because he was all alone. Cried because everything just hurt.

From the start, Luke had known loving Michael would be absolute hell. It wouldn't be easy and it wasn't even about love at first- it was friendship. Luke just wanted to be friends. But he had foolishly fallen in love, no ones fault but his own and now he was paying the price because he had lost the one thing he grown to love so much.

Luke would've done anything for Michael and it hurt so much knowing that he had become addicted to a man that had left him all alone, huddled to a pillow he believed was his lover. Naked and sore in the sheets like a cheap whore.

Luke thought their love was so much more than that. 

But he guessed he was wrong.


	25. Epilogue

Shattered to pieces was Luke's heart that's day Michael had left and he hadn't recovered since. Days and nights were spent huddled under Michael's blankets, dressed in his clothes whilst Luke's own tears trailed down his cheeks. 

He was out of his mind, most nights floating in the clouds and in between memories and dreams of the boy his heart still ached for. 

Luke's eyes were red because he was so high all the time and the apartment reeked. 

Luke hadn't stepped foot in his own home for days, completely forgetting that the rest of the world was still carrying on.

He had blocked out all noise, ignoring the pained voices of his former friends, begging Luke to come out. Calum and Ashton were just too kind. 

And Luke was ruined, too out of it too care.

His back hunched over tiredly as his fingers trembled to light the cigarette, the pain lived within him, settling into his pale skin and rich blood.

He inhaled the nicotine quickly, craving for something stronger but he had run out and he was just too tired to care. 

Empty bottles were placed on the floor beside the bed and others rolled around on the floor, accompanying crumpled clothes and ash. 

The blond sniffed quietly, running shaky fingers through knotted, greasy blond locks. He hadn't eaten in a while too causing his stomach to rumble, an u bearing hunger settled deep inside but he also felt sick at the thought of food. 

He just wanted to sleep forever. 

Luke missed Michal so much.

So much.

Whenever his tender heart ached a little too much, and the strings on his heart pulled on his tears, he'd pull out the crumpled paper Michael had left him and run his tired blue eyes over the scrawled words, imaging Michael's love.

If he closed his eyes hard enough, he could remember the way his calloused fingers traced his hips and how soft his lips were. Luke ached for Michael's fingers to tangle within his hair again and for the boy to press his nose into Luke's cheek like he always did when he wanted Luke to speak.

A sudden thought caused the boy to frantically make his way towards the dark bedroom, hurling under the covers and inhaling deeply, only to let out choked sobs when he realised Michael's scent seemed to slowly disappear. 

It was like Michael wasn't real, only a figment if his imagination.

Luke needed him alive, Luke need him here.

The only way that seemed possible was what Michael had taught him. 

And yes, the hopeless boy would eventually gather himself together to dress into one of Michael's outfits and leave the cold apartment.

Making his way through the dark streets, he'd find someone willing to sell to him so he could go back home to his own little bubble and waste away in the cruel clutches of an abandoned home.

Luke was done living, he was tired of the heartbreak.

It was all over.


End file.
